Into the Night
by purplestar613
Summary: AU Modern day FOURTRIS! Tris: a college student and waitress by day, but dirty dancer at a club called Dauntless by night. She is looking for a way out, but what happens when she meets a mysteriously handsome young man with dark blue eyes assisting her English class, and then see him again at the club? The universe can be really cruel sometimes. Chapter 31 is up! Bit of a slowburn.
1. Chapter 1

She takes another deep breath, but this time to calm herself. "Okay," She runs her hands down her jeans. "So what am I in for exactly?"

"Skin. Sweat. Music. Money. Think you can handle that?"

"Honestly I'm not sure what to think right now. It feels like a nightmare. A nightmare that I'm getting paid for."

"A nightmare that you're paid to dance for." I smile gently and regain my motherly instincts. "Don't overthink it too much, you'll just drive yourself crazy."

"And if I'm already there?"

"Join the club."

****Hello all! This is a modern day FOURTRIS fanfic. The idea just popped into my head and I had to write it down now before the inspiration disappeared. Sigh… the struggles of writing. Anyhoosers, this idea was inspired by the song **_**Dirty Dancer**_** by Enrique Iglesias. Of course the story won't follow the song all the way through, but… I thought to myself, huh, what would it be like if Tris was a stripper? Odd concept, but I'm going with it. Please be patient with me when it comes to updating; I'm not the most consistent person in the world when it comes to it. So I'm apologizing in advance. My goal though is to update once a week. Also I just wanted to add, that I am making up my own University for them to go to, so no hate please! Now then, without further ado, let the show begin!**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing. If you are a new reader here in 2015, then welcome and I hope you enjoy!****

****Another side note before you get started! This story is rated T, and since starting this story, I have had some not so T moments. So... I created a companion/counterpart story to this, it's on my page called INTO THE NIGHT M SCENES. This way, if I have chapters or scenes that are more M than T, they will go on that publication and the milder versions will be on this one. I don't have a real M scene until around Chapter 19, so if you decide that you want to read the M version, just head on over to the other publication and look up the chapter :) I wanted to write a T story, so I didn't move the rating up, just created an optional solution. Whether you want to read it or not is completely up to you - personally, I prefer the M scenes.** **

**Tris POV - Tuesday, September 16th **

The music pounds in my ears. The sound of people cheering, and screaming isn't what pushes me onward. It's the knowledge that I'll have had one of my best tipping nights ever in a while. Two bachelor parties came tonight, one of them with a specific request to see me. Peter made sure they had a private room to view me in.

But now, back out in the main room, in the center of the stage with my counterpart Candy, we grinded on each other until the guys in the room passed out.

Candy of course, isn't her real name, but in this business, we need fake names to avoid creepers. Candy, is the stage name for my roommate and best friend Christina Carlyle. She really is beautiful, and in can understand why a lot of guys want her to dance for them, or do other unsavory things to them, but I can't for the life of me figure out why I'm currently ranked as the number 1 dancer. Compared to Christina, I may as well be a boy in drag. I have little curve in my hips at best. My skin is pale and sickly unless pounds of makeup are thrown on. My breasts are just barely B-cups and I'm short.

Whereas Christina is like an exotic beauty. Full breasts, curves to die for, long slim legs and dark brown eyes that command a room. She also has quite a mouth on her, however, thanks to the new rules Eric put in, we aren't allowed to talk to the customers unless they pay for it.

Eric Matheson, creepy ass guy, is Max's second in command. Max is our boss, but he's almost never around. He's either up in his office hidden away or at one of his other clubs. The string of clubs is known as The Factions. There are six of them, though I think he's dropping one of them soon. We work in the club called Dauntless. The main club colors are black, meaning you have to be wearing something black to enter.

All the dancers wear some kind of black with the occasional accent colors. The club is underground and probably the wildest of the clubs in the Factions. Every one of the dancers Max owns are known as Max's Angels.

He has another one on the northeast end of central Chicago at the top of some high class building known as Erudite. Just like guests here have to wear black, they have to wear blue to get in there. The dancers there mostly wear blue, white and black. It's much more of a higher society club.

Another known as Candor, where guests have to be wearing black _and _white. That place has lots of strobe lights and is high up in some building with all glass walls similar to Erudite. I think it's located on the more northern side of central Chicago, and you can see the navy pier from its location. I visited there once just as all new dancers do, to see where I would best fit in.

The fourth is on the west side of central Chicago. It's known as Abnegation. You have to wear gray to get in. I almost went there, but I prefer Dauntless much better. Abnegation is more of a bar than a club, and it's open to mostly middle aged people who don't dance and don't raise their voices above a room level. It is a big place for sports I hear, but I wasn't interested in it, though it would have probably been the safer choice.

Amity is the fifth club. And it's not even really a club at all. It's more of a party planning place where people can go and buy things to plan their own parties. It's near the Abnegation, but still in its own area. Max's main office site is there, because that's where all his other employees work. The ones who do his bills, do all the paperwork and stuff. Most of the time though, he's here at Dauntless. The people at Amity were too nice for me.

The sixth club, the one I'm pretty sure he's going to drop fairly soon, is known as The Gutter. But he's been making the joke that the Gutter will be known as the Factionless soon enough. It's still a club, but its wear he sends the older washed up dancers to go. They really don't care what you wear to get in, since its so much of a dump anyway. The most famous dancer there is known as Deception. She started at Erudite and became very popular. But was then transferred to Abnegation. Apparently she got pregnant, and that's one of the only ways Max lets you leave. But she came back about ten years later and started working at the Gutter. She's still fairly popular there, but she's been going by Deception so much that no one knows her real name.

Eric is the manager of our club, and more importantly, the guy who tells me what to do and when to do it. He's tall, broad shouldered, buzzed blonde hair on the side of his head, and growing it out on top. Similar to a marine cut, and trust me, he could easily look the part. He has a black eyebrow piercing and many others in his ears. Tattoos on his neck that look like tire tracks of some kind, and others on his arms. He likes to watch us dress and warm up.

But then there's Peter, the schedule manager. He tells us at the beginning of the night who is booked in which rooms for the night, and the different acts that are going on stage. The schedule is created by Eric, but Peter gets the joy of walking into our dressing room to tell us up close and personal.

The final number is coming up. Christina and I each grab a pole at the front of the stage, the lights are flashing red and blue. We flip over so that our legs bent around the poll are the only thing holding us up and begin to spin. For some reason, the guys love this. Probably because it shows how flexible we are and our boobs practically fall out of our skimpy tops. We flip over at the last second and pound our feet into the ground and strike a pose as the last beat of the music ends, and the stage goes black.

I can still hear the echoes of the last music notes pounding in my head. My breathing is heavy, and I can hear the guys cheering. There are hands shoving money into my black knee high leather boots. Then after another moment, Christina and I turn and walk back off stage.

"Good job tonight guys." Another one of us dancers says to us. Her name is Shauna, she's two years older than us, and has been doing this the longest out of everyone here. Her stage name is Bambi, and she's been looking for a way out for a while.

"Alright ladies, money on the table." Peter says as he comes up to us. Christina and I empty our boots like every night. Anything that goes into the boot belongs to the club. Money that goes anywhere else, is our tip. All in all, our boots count up to about $400 tonight. In tips, as in stuffed into my revealing outfit or stuck in my hair, I made about $70 tonight. Not my best night. Certainly not my worst. Christina pulls out just over $100. She was booked for one more private party than I was tonight.

We head back to the dressing room while Peter watches us. Lauren guards the entry way. She used to be a dancer here, but she got older and didn't make as much. Rather than getting sent to the Gutter, Eric thought she could be useful since she's kinda scary to those who don't know her, and it helps that they're cousins, so now she's part of the security team. Her stage name was Glo, and that's what we still call her. She doesn't like being called Lauren in here. Anywhere else is fine, but not in this building. Just like the rest of us. If we see each other in public we don't dare say our stage names, and pray to god that no one recognizes us.

Lynn's station is next to mine, her stage name is Luscious. She's currently pulling off her hot pink wig to reveal her buzzed brown hair. Shauna's station is next to hers and they share a look. They're sisters. But their parents died young. Shauna got into this business at 15, dropping out of high school and passing off as 18. That's why she got the name Bambi, she was young when she lost her parents. She did everything she could to provide for Lynn and their younger brother Hector, but it wasn't enough. Lynn started working here, and together they managed enough money to send Hector to a good school. I don't think he knows what it is they do or how they got the money. He knows they have day jobs – even if it's working for the same man – but not this. He doesn't know that they're owned by Max. We all are. And Shauna and Lynn would kill anyone who told him what it is they really do.

Victoria, or Tori as she prefers is the next girl to walk in whose been here a long time. She came right after Shauna, except she was 20 when she started. She's the oldest stripper here, but she keeps guys coming back, plus she looks fantastic. Her stage name is Paris because she was born there.

Cara is right behind her, already struggling to get out of her outfit. Cara is different from most of us. We're here mostly because we need money for life and college, and so is she, but she loves school. When she's not on stage, she's hiding out back here reading. Eric calls her a Nose. She wants to major in Organic Chemistry for reasons that are beyond me. Science just flies right over my head. But because that's what she want to major in, odds are that she'll be in school a year longer than those of us going for average majors. She needs the money more than anything. When she's on stage, Cara is on fire and super popular among guests, but as soon as she's off stage, she looks like a fish out of water. Eric gave her the name Trinity for working on stage.

Molly is the last main girl in our gig to walk in. She's a bit more masculine looking but she pulls it off. To be perfectly honest, no one really likes her. She picks on us, and tries to beat us down so that she can have the spotlight. She reminds me of Peter in a way. Her given stage name is Porsche.

I strip out of my black and red outfit, and pull on dark gray stretch pants and a black peasant top. Wiping most of the makeup off my face, and removing my black wig. I hate this thing. It gets hot and scratchy, but it and my tattoo, goes with my stage name; Raven.

My real hair is plain blonde. No highlights or coloring of any kind. Just a dull pale color, much like the rest of my skin. My gray-blue eyes aren't bright and shiny, they're just kind of there. An accessory to add to my plainness.

School begins tomorrow. My third year. I was finally able to declare my major last week with the guidance counselor and got into the beginning classes for it. Creative Writing with a minor is Physical Education. I have to stay in shape for this job and this seemed like the easiest way to make sure I don't slack off. It was more Max's idea than anything. Almost all of us who are in school are required by Max to have a minor in Physical Education.

Christina and I leave the club and walk to the parking lot. It's 3am. We strategically only take afternoon classes. Then go to work in the diner which opens at 4pm, where they allow us time to do homework between taking care of customers and then finally the club which opens at 10pm. The diner is open until the early hours of the morning, and Max finds girls who need work to do the job. They are generally girls who he's grooming to go into our business.

My first class isn't until noon, so if I get home soon, I can get a full eight hours of sleep. Christina doesn't have class until 2pm. I'll have to take the bus to campus since our car is technically _her_ car.

We drive home and I long to immediately jump into bed. It's not a very big apartment. An entry way/living room area, kitchen/dining room to the right, bathroom in between the two bedroom doors which are parallel to the living room area. I'm in the corner room, and Christina in the room between the bathroom and living room. My room is just big enough for a bed, dresser, small closet with a floor length mirror, small desk and window to the building's fire escape. Christina's room wouldn't have a window normally, but we're on the top floor so she has a small skylight. We've been living here since we started working for Max.

I put my money in the safe under my bed and then hide it in the back of my closet. I always try to hide it somewhere new every few days just in case. Christina makes me eat some romen noodles and drink a glass of water before bed because we haven't had dinner yet. She then goes to sit on the couch and read the last bit of her summer assignment I go to my room.

The floor length closet mirror immediately to my left startles me every time. White Christmas lights hand around the ceiling and give me a haunting look; left over makeup smeared under my eyes, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and my body droops from dancing all night. Luckily Max only makes us do it every other night. We do however work in the diner every day except Sundays. On the nights that aren't ours, a different group of dancers work Dauntless. I don't know any of the girls in that group.

Tomorrow is Wednesday, the first day of the semester. I've been attending Central Chicago University, home of the purple-silver-black wolves, for the last two years. And I've been working for Max for four. I started when I was 16. When my parents died. I ended up getting a tattoo to represent them, ravens, on my left collar bone. I got three in total, meaning one for my brother Caleb. He's 10 months older than me, but we're technically in the same grade. Only he went off to New York after our parents died, for something in science. The ravens are how I got my stage name, and it wasn't something horrible like Chastity. My first night there was also Christina's, and afterwards, we went to go get tattoos of Max's mark on our lower back. A spout of flames contained in a ring with extended wings on the sides. Because we are Max's Dauntless Angels. Those in Erudite have to get the same thing but with an eye instead of flames, which I think is totally creepy. Those in Abnegation have to get two hands clasped together. Those in Candor get scales, and not like animal scales, but weight scales. Amity get a tree, which I actually think is kind of pretty. And those in the Gutter just have whichever place they originated from.

As far as I know Max only has one set of male dancers for girl's night which happens once a month in three of the clubs. It happens on the first Friday of the month at Dauntless. The second Friday at Erudite. The third Friday at Candor. I've never met any of them. Shauna, Tori and Lauren know some of them, but they say that the guys are all jerks.

I fall asleep quickly when my head hits my pillow. I made sure to have advil and a glass of water waiting for me when I woke up since the lights and music can leave devastating headaches the next morning.

I can still hear the nightlife of my neighborhood as I drift off. And I ask myself the same question over and over again as the darkness takes me; how am I ever going to get out of this?

****PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you think! I am very motivated to update when I get reviews!****

**And just as a general statement to reiterate - this story is my idea. I have not seen it anywhere else on the web, though I'm sure similar stories exist. There's no real copyright seal I can put on this story, so this is as good as it gets.**


	2. Chapter 2

****Thank you guys so much for the reviews! And just so everyone knows, I do read them all and I do take your ideas into consideration. And a few of you mentioned a certain topic about Tris's boring boy-ish figure… FEAR NOT! I already had a plan for her, and she ain't gonna like it! But all in good time. You have given me some wonderful inspiration! Heads up too, there is some texting in this chapter, and I wanted to let you lovies know that whenever there is texting, the person in **_**Bold Italics, **_**is going to be the person this POV is on. ****So in this case, Four would be in **_**Bold Italics. **_**And plain**_ Italics_ **is going to be the other.** **Tootles!****

****P.S. I don't think I'm going to dip into Four's POV regularly, and if I do his chapters could be relatively short, however this one is not. Apologies in advance.**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Four POV - Wednesday, September 17th **

"Wakey wakey Four!"

I could punch him. I really could, but I probably shouldn't since he's letting me live here until my new apartment is ready.

"Come on dude. You're gonna be late for your meeting." This wakes me up. I can't be late today! It's my first day as a TA in Humanities. Shadowing my favorite professor of all time, Amar Atwell. I don't yet know which class of his I'm shadowing, but I have to report to his office Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings at 8am either way.

The cheap alarm clock reads 7:30 in bright green lights. Zeke is right, I'm going to be late. Good thing I showered last night and already have everything packed. I throw on a pair of dark jeans since Amar likes to keep things semi casual, and a dark blue button up shirt. I grab my black jacket, shoes, shoulder bag, keys and am out the door in my car by 7:45.

It's a short drive from Zeke's house to campus. And the only reason I'm not living on campus is because I'm a graduate student.

The Humanities building is in the middle of campus, and Amar's office is on the top floor. I stumble into the office at 8:04, but it's empty. Amar's brief case and coat are at his desk and his computer is turned on, but he's not here. Maybe he went for coffee and won't notice I got here late.

"You're late Four." Amar says in a humorous tone behind me. I turn quickly and see Amar smirking with a coffee in one hand. Then he looks at the clock and laughed. "I'll be damned. Four minutes again. That's actually kind of impressive." Amar is the only professor I know on campus who has dreadlocks. But for him, it works.

"I'm sorry I'm late Amar."

"Don't sweat it kid." He sits in his chair. "I'm not _that_ strict if you haven't already noticed. However, it is really fun to watch new kids squirm thinking I'm really strict. Gotta put on your instructor face." I nod and watch him begin to type on his computer. "You can sit you know." He gestures to the small desk in the corner of the room.

"So which class will I be helping with?"

"English 344. Advanced Shakespeare. It'll be mostly English majors or somewhere in that department taking the class." He smiles at nothing. "If I remember correctly, that's the first class I had with you." I smile with him. I thought Amar was terrifying when I first met him, but also quite fascinating. "The class is at 3pm. You're dismissed to go about your day. Normally we'll meet here in the morning to go over the lesson plan for the day, but since it's the first day we'll just be going over the syllabus which you already have."

"Yes sir."

"Hey Four, come on." His face cringes. "Do I look like a sir to you?"

I chuckle. "Old habit. Sorry."

He waves me off and I walk out the door.

It's still early morning and not many people are out and about. Many students hate early morning classes, but I find them rather enjoyable. Getting to wake up in the morning with something to immediately look forward too. Not to mention the earlier my classes began, the earlier I was away from home. I don't like to think about that. I haven't lived with him since Junior year in high school, when I moved in with Zeke and his family. His mother took me in and raised me as one of her own. I liked that place much more than home. Now that Zeke has his own place, I figured it was time to look for one of my own. Don't get me wrong, I love Zeke as a brother, but he parties way too much for my taste. I need a place of my own to have some quiet.

I find my favorite spot near the small man-made stream that runs through campus. It was supposed to be part of a sculpture, but it froze too much in the colder seasons that maintenance gave up and just let it run it's course. A student last year actually figured out a way to keep it from flooding too. They put some kind of sensor in the wall of the river, and whenever it reached that sensor, the pool where the river ends would drain.

It's peaceful here. No one would bother me since I'm a graduate student, not to mention I can be intimidating when I want to be.

I pull out a book that Zeke gave me to read over the summer. I never did. But he insisted, in his sincerest of voices, that it really was a decent book. I have two hours before my first actual class, so I begin to read.

A giggle breaks my concentration after twenty minutes. Freshmen. Female freshmen to be specific. The ones that still think they can dress like they did in High School. Pink miniskirts and revealing blouses, matched with high heels. Really, high heels on campus? Too much makeup and hair that is not naturally that fluffy. They all hold a coffee in their hands. And, they're watching me.

They keep looking back at me when they think I'm not looking, and continue to do it even when I'm wearing a scowl. I hate when people stare at me.

Finally, they get up and leave. It's only 9am. I still have an hour. I hate waiting. It makes me nervous and antsy.

Class comes around. It's fairly easy stuff for me, but for some it's obviously difficult. After majoring in Computer Science – Security Emphasis, I'm now working on a master's in Education – Child's Service Emphasis. Not that I necessarily want to be a teacher, that's kind of what my TA position is about this semester; to see if I like it. But I want to be able to understand how to better communicate with dependents, specifically those who come from abusive homes. And if anyone asks why I went into this, I tell them it's none of their business. Even Amar doesn't know the extent of what happened in that house, and I pray he never does.

My phone buzzes on my way to Amar's class. 3pm has rolled around already.

It's a message from Zeke.

_Meet at The Pit after class?_

_**Sure. Be there by 4:30.**_

_My Comm. Prof is smoking ;)_

I roll my eyes at the message.

_Srsly tho. Wanna bet how long it'll take me to get her?_

_**No thank you Zeke. Probably best not to do anything.**_

_Your no fun._

_**You're***_

_Fuck off grammar bitch_

I laugh, then put my phone back in my pocket. I walk up to the Cedar building, which houses the English department, and most of the English lecture rooms. Amar said we're in 406. Meaning the top floor. Great. I take in a deep breath and hold my bag a little closer to my body, careful not to look down the gap in the stairs as I climb higher. The floor to ceiling windows that greet me with a view of campus as soon as I reach the top are not helping at all.

"It's not that bad Four." Amar's voice catches me off guard. He was behind me the whole time? "I know you don't like heights, but this is a beautiful view." He stands next to me and looks at it admiringly.

I can only grunt in return.

He laughs and claps me on the back. "Come on. Let's see if we can beat the eager young pupils there." I give him an odd look and he laughs harder.

Room 406 is just around the corner from the staircase. No one is waiting outside of the room. Class starts in a half hour so I'm not totally surprised. We enter the room, and find it lined with windows. Lovely.

"How much do you want to bet that there will be at least one student late?" Amar says.

I look at him confused. "It's the first day. There's always someone late, getting lost, or forgetting."

He waves me off. "Yeah yeah, but I mean just one student. All the others on time. I want to see if I'll have another you in the class."

"Seriously? You can't let that go?"

"The notorious quiet student who was four minutes late to my class. No one is ever late to my class. Everyone knows the 'horror' stories that my past students tell about me."

"Well…" I begin.

"You're supposed to be on my side now. You're a TA." He says in a slightly accusatory tone. A smile covers my face. "I've only made students do laps around the building or pushups in the room when they're disruptive. I don't push them out windows or send them down the stairs in a garbage can."

"That's what they say about you?" I ask my eyes widening along with my smile.

"Don't enjoy this." He snaps. "Students who don't do well in my class make up rumors about me. But that's all they are, rumors."

"Whatever you say Amar." I look down at my desk and he huffs at me. "I will bet you $50 a student walks in _after_ four minutes, beating my astonishing record of excessive tardiness." I add sarcastically, even though that's not exactly why my nickname is Four. My eyes meet his as I take his bet.

"Deal." He says.

There are going to be about 40 students in the class. Amar sets up at the front desk, and I take the smaller one by the door, away from the windows thankfully.

The first student walks in at 2:45. The second at 2:50. Then five more. Amar doesn't say anything to them. He doesn't even acknowledge them. I follow his lead.

At 3pm exactly, Amar addresses the class. He takes roll call, and we find one student missing. He and I eye each other as we both look at the clock. The group of students look at us funny as we wait. And wait. And when four minutes are up, Amar slams his book on the table.

"DAMMIT!" He yells. It scares a good handful of the students, who came in with a wary look already on their faces. One girl in the back even screams. Then he reaches into his wallet and pulls out $50. I smile widely and accept it when he hands it to me. "For those of you who don't know, I just lost a bet to our TA. Would you like to introduce yourself?" He asks me.

I stand in the middle of the front of the room. "Hello, my name is not Four, but that is what I go by. Just like you all have the option of being called something other than your first name, this is mine."

"You mean like the number?" An attractive girl with dark skin and even darker hair asks from two rows back.

"Yes like the number."

"What, 1 through 3 already taken?" She flashes a smile and some of the others laugh quietly.

I smile coolly. "What's your name?"

"Christina."

"Nine letters in your name. Lets double that. 18 pushups."

She gawks slightly. "This is English, not Gym."

Amar joins in, not even looking at her. "Pushups Ms. Carlyle or you forfeit your first mid-term."

Christina huffs and glares at me. A few of the other students look terrified. She begins to get out of her seat. But I stop her. "Front and center please."

"What are you an army wannabe?"

"Not at all." I say, no smile in my voice.

She's through number 12, and to my surprise she was doing quite well. She's certainly in shape. Suddenly a blob of gray bursts through the door and trips over Christina. There's our missing student. I look at the clock. Six minutes.

Suddenly the girl untangles herself from Christina, who starts laughing. They help each other up and Christina then goes to finish the last six. The gray blur of a girl scoots quietly to the last open seat by the window and keeps her head down. When she looks up, she blushes realizing Amar and I are just staring at her. But something else happens. My heart stops momentarily as I look at this girl.

Her hair sits in soft blonde waves down her back. Not like the unnatural blonde girls are obsessed with these days, but a natural blonde. Her rose tinted cheeks are the frosting on the cake, and her eyes. Her eyes are a silvery blue that makes all others look ordinary. Hers are stern, but curious, and gentle all the same. Beautiful. Still, there's a fire about this girl. Her short frame is covered in a gray crew neck that reveals one shoulder covered by a black tank top, and a simple pair of dark jeans.

Amar breaks my trance. "Ms. Prior is it?"

It's then I realize she was staring at me too. Her head snaps up to him. Amar doesn't look at me but I know that he'll talk to me about it later. "Yes." Her voice is soft, but firm.

"I've already called roll. Everyone has had the chance to give me a different name than on the roster if they wish. Is there something other than your name listed that you want to be called?" She seems to almost pale at his question. Why?

"No. My name is fine."

"Very well." He looks down at his chart. "Beatrice." Beatrice. "Would you like to explain why you're six minutes late to my class?"

"I was talking to the professor in my last class and he asked me to stay late." She says simply, but she releases a deep breath like she's relieved.

Amar looks at her with a face I don't see often, concern hidden behind curiosity. "It wouldn't happen to be Professor Thompson would it?"

She nods her head. "Yes it was." Her face still a little pale.

Amar sighs. "That man loves to talk." Something in Amar's voice sets me on edge, but I can't quite pinpoint what it is. Then he eyes her carefully. What is he looking for? "Don't be late next time."

"Yes sir."

"What is with people calling me sir?" Amar asks the class. "Well then, my name is Amar Atwell. You may call me Professor Atwell or Amar. I don't respond to Prof. Or sir. Alright?"

Then it's as if the whole class had the same idea. "Yes sir." They all say. Amar's eyes look like they might pop out of his head. Then the class busts out laughing. Amar is dead silent, like he can't decide if he should be angry and order pushups, laps, or laugh with them. A small smile creeps onto my face that I can't help. This is going to be interesting.

I pick my head up when the laughter is dying down, and find the girl, Ms. Prior who walked in late is just looking down at her desk. A troubled look on her face. For a moment, she picks her head up and her eyes meet mine once more. My smile fades and I don't know how to react. Thankfully Amar starts talking.

The rest of the class is fairly uneventful. Mostly going over the syllabus, talking about exams and punishments for not following the rules.

When class is over, everyone shuffles out. Christina is walking over to the gray blur Ms. Prior, an odd look on her face. They talk easily, so I assume they know each other. Then she looks distressed in a way that makes my blood boil.

They walk out together not long after and I watch them all the way out. Keeping my head down so they don't know I'm watching. Or at least I hope they don't.

"What was that?" Amar says suddenly.

"What?"

"You and her? Do you know her?"

I shrug, but heat floods my chest with embarrassment of being caught. "No. I don't. Why?"

"You two were making goo-goo eyes at each other."

"Were not!"

"Were too!" He teases smirking.

I can feel my face heat up. "I have to go to class." I pick up my bag.

"Liar." Amar smiles as he calls after me. "I know your schedule. You're done for the day."

I flip him off and he laughs.

At the stairs, something catches my eye. Out the window. Beatrice and Christina walking out the building and into the courtyard. It looks like they're talking, and she looks more relaxed. I feel a smile on my face as I watch her. But it's gone in an instance as soon as a young man with light brown hair approaches her. She laughs with him and he throws his arm around her. Christina walks off in some other direction and Beatrice and the guy keep going.

Suddenly I'm afraid of heights again. I can't look anymore. I walk down the stairs in silence and text Zeke letting him know I'm on my way to The Pit.

****Did you guys see what I did there with the room number? Huh? Huh? 406? 4… 6… get it? Someone date me.**

**Please Review!****


	3. Chapter 3

****Hello everyone! I don't think I've done a disclaimer yet – how silly of me – so here it is: I do not own any of the original characters or the main plot line from Divergent, that all belongs to the wonderfully talented Veronica Roth! Now that that's done, I would like to say a big thank you for the reviews! I did want to take a moment to address three in specific:**

** FaultInOurDivergentGames – your review made me snort with laughter **** cheese covered corn… LOL**

**jasminelouise . kirk– I am trying to update once a week, right now it looks like it's gonna be on Mondays**

** Michaela46 – dating is so hard when fangirling and fanfictioning (these verbs should definitely be added to the dictionary) takes over. At least we have each other here on this site!**

**Any hoosers, welcome to Chapter 3 my darlings! I am currently working on Chapter 5, however… this is November, and for those of you writing fanatics that know what that means, then you should know that I could possibly be behind in updating towards the end of the month because I will be working on my novel for NaNoWriMo! Boo-ya. **

**BTWz, if any of you lovely fellow writers are on NaNoWriMo, you should totally add me on it as a writing buddy and I will add you in return! Just PM me your username and I will return the favor!**

**Welp that's all for now! See you in a week! But not literally because that would be creepy.**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Tris POV - Wednesday, September 17th**

I wake up before my alarm goes off, about 10 minutes before actually. I sigh and get up anyway. Might as well.

The hot water in the shower is comforting, and it finally feels like I'm washing away the grime of last night at the club. I dry my hair quickly and let it fall in natural soft waves. My makeup is light and simple at best. I throw on a dark pair of jeans and a black tank top since it's still fairly warm outside, but add my old ripped gray crew neck as well.

Christina is still dead asleep when I leave the apartment, but that's okay. She only has one class today, and it's my last class, which doesn't start until 3.

The bus is ten minutes late, but that's not too surprising. It's filled with people from all over town. One girl catches my eye in particular. She's sitting towards the back, in a gray dress and darker gray over coat. Her light brown hair is pinned at the back of her neck in a perfect bun, and she holds her bag tightly to her body. But her stance instantly relaxes when she sees me.

"Beatrice, it's nice to see you." She says as I sit down next to her.

"Hello Susan. How was your summer?"

She smiles. "It was very pleasant. Robert found his own place and moved out. I miss him, but I still see him at school." Then she pauses and blushes furiously. "Have you heard anything new about Caleb?"

I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off.

"No wait. Forget I asked. That was extremely selfish of me. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, really it's okay to ask. He's still in New York. Still finding himself I suppose." She nods solemnly. We grew up as next door neighbors, and everyone could see how much Susan and Caleb cared about each other. We thought for sure they would end up together. But when our parents died, Caleb changed. He shut himself off into his studies. He had no time for anyone, and shut us all out. Then he got a full ride to New York and left as soon as he could, not looking back. Susan was heartbroken, but she knew he was happy and needed space so she let him go, just like that.

Robert, Susan's twin, and I were a different story. We were a month apart in age, but we were always friends. When we were young, we would tease Susan and Caleb whenever they were alone. But as soon as I got older, and the girls around me began to develop more than I did I tried not to notice how much Robert watched them. I grew up thinking Robert and I would eventually get married, and have kids of our own. But part of me never wanted to follow through with it. As soon as my parents died, that dream of Robert and I died too.

"Have you declared your major?" I ask Susan, changing the subject.

She nods happily. "Yes I have. Communication." Not surprising. She's always been good at talking. "It's a competitive major, but my professor says that I have a bright future in it. She even offered to help and be my advisor."

"That's great."

"And what about you?"

"I declared Creative Writing last week." She gives me an odd look. "What? I don't want to go into education, science is eh, history no, and math is not my thing."

"But you were always so good with computers and science."

I glare at her. "Please drop it."

Her mouth forms a tight line but she shows no real emotion. "You have a minor in Physical Education, don't you?"

My fists tighten slightly. This gives her her answer.

"Oh Beatrice."

"Let's not talk about it okay?"

This makes her a little angry, I can see it in her amber colored eyes, but she doesn't say anything. All of the girls in my profession working for Max take a minor in Physical Education. Just like her mother did.

We finish the bus ride in silence. I know she wants to talk me out of it. She wants to tell me what a bad business I'm in. But she's too good for that. She knows that this is how I make money, and it's money I need. She knows that it's hard to get out of. She knows what happens to the girls that simply run for it. Her mother ran for it. She was an escort in Abnegation, she ran, and she was killed. They were going to transfer her to the Gutter soon enough, but she just wanted out. It happened after I had been dancing in Dauntless for a year. That's how Susan found out what it is I do. Robert never knew, and even though she would never give out a threat, she would kill anyone who smeared her mother's name in front of him.

Robert and I are still friends, but we don't talk as much as we used to. I think I would die of embarrassment if he knew what it was I really do at night. He knows I work in the diner known as The Pit, but he doesn't know that my boss at the diner, is the same boss who watches me dance and please guys for a living.

A lot of the dancers work at one of his diners, all fairly close to where their club is located. The Dauntless girls work at The Pit, famous for our burgers and chocolate cake.

Erudite girls work at a coffee shop called The Nook in the middle of the busy part of the city, famous for fizzy drinks and scones. Abnegation already work at a bar. The Gutter dancers aren't seen during the daylight hours. The Candor girls work at a place called the Merciless Mart, famous for catering weddings with their deserts. They're probably the fanciest of all the eateries. And the Amity girls work at a diner across town from ours called The Fence because it's on the boarder of the city and farmlands, they're famous for sandwiches and a peaceful atmosphere – very family friendly.

I hurry off the bus when it reaches the main campus stop, picking up my pace so Susan can't catch up to me and tell me what she thinks. If I hear it, I'll believe her, and that makes my horrible job more real. As long as I think of it as a dream, or maybe even a simulation, it will be okay. But when you're aware during a dream, you know that anything can happen; anything can hurt you; and it's all real.

My first class is Intro to Creative Studies, otherwise known as English 310. I know I could easily go into science like Susan mentioned today, but in science, I have to follow the rules. In Creative Writing, I can be whoever I want. Make a new name for myself and be as big or as loud as I want, and no one can tell me it's wrong. There's a certain freedom about it that draws me in.

The class is easy, and fairly small since it's a Major Only class. Everyone in the room is excited to be there. We are given an assignment and released after the hour is up.

My next class is also Major Only; Contemporary Editing, or English 325. I enter the room, which is extremely similar to my last one. It's only one building over so I'm early, the first one actually.

"Please come in." A male voice calls to me. I look towards the front of the room and spot a man in a white button up shirt with dark blue dress pants. His hair is arranged nicely, but his eyes make him look like he's been up for hours longer than he should be. "You're here for English 325?"

"Yes."

He smiles. "Then you're in the right place." I smile politely and go to the second row of five and sit in the middle. "Forgive me miss, but you look familiar. Do we know each other?" He asks, a slight frown on his face.

I look over his face, making it seem as though I'm thinking really hard to see if I know him. Really, I'm just focusing on the small scar on his left cheek. It looks familiar. So I lie. "Not that I know of."

"Hmm… You remind me a lot of… But that couldn't be right. Never mind, it'll come to me."

He is shuffling papers around on his desk when a few others enter. He ushers them in with the same kindness he offered me. By the time class begins, I find that mostly girls are in the class. In fact, there's only 3 boys out of 35 people.

"Hello everyone, my name is Connor Thompson, but I prefer to be called Professor Thompson over anything. Now I'm going to take roll. Please correct me if I get your name wrong. I do not take nicknames in this class so whatever is listed here will be what I know you as.

There's a few groans behind me. But Professor Thompson doesn't notice, or doesn't care.

He seems like a really nice guy, and young too. But there is something about him that doesn't quite feel right to me about him. There's a churning in my gut that is all too familiar. It's that feeling I get in the club when a guy is looking at me like I'm dinner rather than a dancer. The kind of guys Eric tells us to report if they're getting too comfortable around us. We're escorts and dancers, not hookers. He makes me want to sit in the back so I can't feel his eyes on me, or just run from the room. He gets to my name.

"Beatrice Prior."

I raise my hand politely. A smile curls on his lips.

"Beautiful name." He says quietly.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as others look at me from hearing what came out of his mouth. I sink into my seat a bit, but try as hard as I can to brush it off. Thankfully he makes some comment about a girl in the front row looking good in her yoga pants.

I don't think I like this man.

When class is over, I have fifteen minutes to cross campus in time for my last class of the day.

"Beatrice, would you hold back please."

Professor Thompson is leaning against his desk watching me. I sigh and walk towards him. "Yes?"

"Beatrice I don't like how you acted in my class today."

What? "I'm sorry? What do you mean?"

He crosses his arms. "You kept your head down, you rarely participated and you kept checking the clock. Am I really that boring? Or do you have somewhere else you'd rather be? With a boyfriend perhaps?" His tone is harsh, and he practically spits out the word boyfriend.

"I was just nervous for this class." Liar. "And, um. No, I don't have a boyfriend."

His facial features relax at this. "Alright. Please participate more next time." We stare at each other for a brief moment, and then he smiles wickedly.

I nod and quickly turn to leave, but he grabs my arm, and pulls me back. Was he waiting for me to turn and make a run for it? His face is close to mine, with my back to him, at least he can't see my face. His breath is sticky and thick. "I look forward to seeing more of you in class, Raven." No… No he can't possibly recognize me like _that!_

I take in as deep of a calming breath that I can, and slowly turn to face him. "Who's Raven?"

His smile widens. "I'll see you in class on Friday." Then he releases my arm. I do all I can not to bolt out of that room. I can't be in this class. I can't be near someone who knows who I am. But I need this class for my major, and it won't be offered again until next fall.

I leave the room and run down the hall, propping myself up by my hands as I take deep breaths as to not bring on a panic attack. I need to calm down. But I need to get to my next class.

My watch beeps as I leave the building. My class starts now. The classroom is a good ten minute walk away. I'm late.

Run. That's what I do. All the way across campus. Over a bridge that covers a small manmade river sculpture which is actually very pretty and into the southern part of campus. I made the walk in five minutes by running. A small line of sweat has started on my brow. Even my underarms have begun to dampen. Super attractive. At least I still smell like my trusty deodorant; cucumber melon.

I run into the building and scale the stairs. I make it to room 406 in such a rush that by the time I reach the door, I haven't given myself time to slow down. I'm sprinting and everything is blurry. By the time I see her it's too late. Christina is on the floor for some reason and she's in my way. I end up tripping over her and fall to the floor on my face, my legs tangled into hers. Heat rushes to my face as I push myself up. Christina has begun to laugh, as the heat fills my chest from embarrassment. I brush myself and scurry over to the last empty seat by the window.

Christina does pushups, for reasons beyond me, a smile still on her face. Then she gets up and goes back to her seat. I just want to get through this class without any other embarrassments and especially without anyone else recognizing me.

The room is still dead silent. I dare to look around and see what is going on, but when I do, both the professor and the T.A are staring at me. My eyes flit back and forth between the two men for a moment, before landing on the T.A. He's staring at me in a different way from the professor. He's looking at me with a furrowed brow, but wide eyes; like he's confused but recognizes me. Oh God I hope he doesn't know me from the club. But something about his stance makes me think he doesn't. He's tall, and well built; not like a mountain by any means but still, he looks strong. His dark shirt hugs his frame nicely. Something about him looks intimidating, but he also looks gentle. My eyes lock onto his, and though I'm far away, I can see the blue of his eyes. Deep, like the unexplored parts of the ocean.

"Ms. Prior is it?" My head snaps up to the professor, who is looking at me with a cocked eyebrow. I can feel more embarrassing heat spread across my face. I was just caught staring at my new T.A. Way to go Tris.

"Yes." My voice is quiet, shamed from staring. I should know better, it's rude.

The professor crosses his arms and eyes me funny. "I've already called roll. Everyone has had the chance to give me a different name than on the roster if they wish. Is there something other than your name listed that you want to be called?" My stage name comes to my head. No I can't possibly be called that! Why would I even think about being called that? I could go by Tris, but no that's for my friends only. But for some reason I want to give them all my nicknames. Well, it's not that I want to give them, but I want the T.A to know them, like I don't want secrets between us. That's ridiculous, why would I want that?!

"No. My name is fine." I say after swallowing the urge to tell them my name.

Again, the professor gives me an odd look. "Very well." Then he looks down at his chart. "Beatrice." I have to keep from cringing. I never really liked that name. Beatrice is the sixteen year old girl who lost her parents to the accident the whole city heard about. Maybe that's why the professor keeps looking at me funny. "Would you like to explain to the class why you're six minutes late to my class?"

Oh yeah I was late wasn't I? "I was talking to the professor in my last class and he asked me to stay late." I release a deep breath. Well at least that's one secret in the open. I honestly don't know how many more secrets I could keep. I'll need to talk to Christina after class. She's much better keeping secrets, but oddly also better at blurting them.

My eyes meet the professor's again, and he looks concerned this time. "It wouldn't happen to be Professor Thompson would it?"

I nod my head. "Yes it was." I can still feel his hands on my arms and it suddenly feels harder to breathe.

"That man loves to talk." He says easily, but I can detect a lie behind it. There's something he's not saying. I got to be almost an expert at reading people from my job, but I don't like the feeling I get from the professor. Not like the last one, but like he's keeping something from me that he doesn't want to say out loud. What could it be? "Don't be late next time."

"Yes sir." I say automatically. Then I feel silly. Why would I call him sir? He just looks like one I guess.

He huffs and waves his arms slightly. "What is with people calling me sir?" He addresses the whole class and not just me. But no one answers. I give a slight sigh of relief that the eyes of the room are not on me anymore. I know Christina will want to talk after class, she always seems to know when something is wrong with me. "Well then, my name is Amar Atwell. You may call me Professor Atwell, or Amar. I don't respond to Prof. Or sir. Alright?"

I can feel it in the room. It's like everyone gets the same idea, and we smile before it comes out. "Yes sir." We all say simultaneously. Amar looks completely dumbfounded. I feel a laugh bubble up from my chest. Everyone starts laughing then. But mine is short lived.

Laughing freely feels wrong. It feels out of place. I look down at my desk and don't meet anyone else's eyes. As the laughing dies down I pick my head back up to see if the lesson will begin, but my eyes are distracted. A small smile on the T.A causes me to look at him. It's like I can't help it. I'm drawn to him; this is dangerous. I can't develop feelings for anyone, let alone a T.A. If Eric found out I was seeing someone he would put me in the cage for a week.

Dancers can't have relationships outside the club. It's too dangerous.

The smile is gone from his face. Probably realizing that staring is rude. But he still looks confused, like he recognizes me. More heat in my face again. My blood begins to run rapidly through my veins. Why won't he stop looking at me?

Amar then gets back to the lesson. We mostly talk about the syllabus and the plan for the rest of the semester. The T.A keeps discretely looking over in my direction. I only know this because I'm keeping him in the corner of my eye just in case he recognizes me and I need to make a quick getaway.

When class is finally over, people begin to shuffle out. I look down to pack everything up. I'm done for the day. Well, except for working at the Pit. At least I don't have to dance tonight.

"Hey what's going on with you?" Christina is at my side before I can pick my head up and grab my bag.

"Nothing. Why?"

She glares at me. "You know I can tell when you're lying." Dammit.

"Not here." I say quietly and plead with her through my eyes. She seems to catch my drift and we walk out of the room. The T.A is still looking at me. He must think he's doing it discretely. Ha, he needs practice at it.

Christina and I walk down the hall and stairwell in silence, but as soon as we're outside, she's onto me. "What's going on?"

I can feel my face pale at the memory. "My editing professor knows who I am."

She gasps. "No way. Like he knows you from…?"

"Dauntless. Yes he knows who I am." I say almost breathlessly. "I don't know what to do. I can't drop the class because I need it for my major, and it's not offered for another year."

"You could always take the year off."

"You know Eric would chew me out if I did that."

"Beatrice!" A male voice calls from behind me.

"Later." Christina whispers to me, as I turn. I nod to her, then face him.

Robert. His brown hair has become more of a honey color from the summer sun. He worked his entire summer in the fields in the county. He has tanned skin and new muscle to show for it. I've always found him attractive, but never in the way that everyone thought I would.

"Hey Rob. How was class?" Christina asks.

He smiles kindly at her. "It was very nice. Thank you for asking Christina." He smiles politely as well. I don't think they've ever really liked each other that much, but they make an effort to get along for my sake.

Robert is our age, but he took a year of college level classes in high school of our senior so technically he's in his fourth year here. He's studying something in the Environmental Sciences department. Maybe agriculture or maybe a toxicology emphasis. Even if I'm good at sciences, I never really liked it.

"Well I've got to get to class." Christina looks at her phone.

"Which language are you mastering now?" Robert teases.

"I'm in my last semester of Russian." She says proudly. Christina has always had a talented tongue. As long as I've known her, she's always been learning new languages and wanting to learn more about each culture. Her father was from Kenya, but moved here when he was in his teens, so he taught her what he knew from his culture back home and their language. Her mother knew German, so she learned three languages growing up. She took more throughout her early schooling years, and now she can fluently speak about six languages; Swahili, German, English, Spanish, French, and Mandarin Chinese. Russian will make seven. Her advisors have called her a language prodigy. She learns them in half the time that others do. She was born to talk.

Robert looks impressed. "Good for you. I'm sure you'll master at least two more languages before you graduate."

"My goal is ten before I graduate."

He lets out a low whistle. She smirks. "Say something in one of them." He teases her. Why is it whenever you tell someone you can speak another language they automatically ask you to say something in it.

Christina and I both share this mutual look of understanding. Then she turns smiling. "See you later Tris."

"Come on Chrissy!" Robert presses her a smile on his face.

"Fous le camp." She flips him off as she walks away. I can't help but laugh at Robert's confused face. But he smiles with it and throws his arm around my shoulders. Christina has always liked to swear in French the most so I've begun to decode them.

"I can't tell if that was rude or not." He says comically. I continue laughing at him, like he's actually trying to figure it out. Then he gives up and smiles. "Where you headed?"

"Work. Need money to go to school."

"Ain't that the truth. I'll walk you there. I'm done for the day, and I'm not in a hurry to get back home."

This causes me to look at him with a confused look. "Susan told me you moved out over the summer. What could be so bad about going home to your own place?"

"My roommate. He isn't a bad guy by any means, but I think he likes boys the way most guys like girls."

Robert has never been one to judge people based on anything really, he's always been kind to everyone he meets, much like Susan. So this surprises me. "So he's homosexual. So what?"

"I get the feeling he hasn't come out yet, and he's been making advances towards me that I've gotten from girls before."

"Oh."

He sighs. "Yeah, I can live with it, but it's a little awkward."

"Just need to get used to it?"

He smiles then. "Yeah, I suppose so. Don't get me wrong, I really like the guy, but not _that_ way you know?"

I smile with him. "Yeah I get it. Don't worry. I'm sure it'll be fine. What's his name?"

"George. He's a few years older than us but he took a few years off before going to school. He's the same grade as me, but he's majoring in Physical Education."

I laugh a bit. "Maybe I'll see him. I'm minoring in Phys. Ed."

"Maybe. Let me know what you think of him, if my theories are correct I mean."

"Sure thing Rob."

We continue walking off campus and down two blocks in what is still considered "College Town" until we reach the Pit. It's not quite at the stage where it's crawling with students, and staff, but they'll come within the next hour or so. It's a popular place for students to hang out and grab sandwiches or cake. It's also a big first date place; this is my only kind of love life. I know it's creepy to live vicariously through strangers but I need something to keep me balanced.

The outside of the building is mostly gray concrete, but there are blue neon lights that rim the edge, and the sign, "The Pit" is in big black and red letters above the main entrance. Windows are lined with more blue lights. An "Open" sign hangs in one of the first windows. It's not much, but it's money.

I take comfort in the concrete walls of the building, it's solid and steady, unmoving. I don't like investing my time in things that aren't solid. I don't want to be attached to something, and then left alone again.

****I looked it up on google translate so it may not be right, but "foutre le camp" basically means "fuck off." If anyone reading this speaks French knows a more common way of saying it or if this is just completely wrong please let me know!**

**Please Review!****


	4. Chapter 4

****Hello there everybody! Yes I realize that this is a day late but please no rudeness. Not a whole lot to say in this author note update... umm, how about a little bit about myself?**

**My favorite color is orange.**

**Autumn is my favorite season.**

**I am a 90's baby.**

**I am female.**

**And it's sunny here but feels like 30 degrees outside and I really need to go mow the lawn, so I gotta bounce! Later gators! **

**Oh! And special thank you to Nanou13118 for being and awesome person and correcting me on my google translate french swearing!**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Tris POV - Wednesday, September 17th**

I clung to Caleb when our parents died. And he clung to me for a moment, before shutting out everyone and everything and pouring his life into his books. We've sent letters to each other, but neither of us have gone to visit the other since he left. It's been a long time since I've seen him.

Robert says goodbye to me at the employee entrance around back near the parking lot and then walks off to who knows where. Robert is notorious for walking around town without a clue of where he's going. He just likes to walk.

The first room I enter is the locker room, where I can change into my uniform, thankfully it's not as bad as my uniform at Dauntless. Here we still have to wear black. But we wear black and red. A pair of black pants with a dark red shirt. I snap my name tag "TRIS" into place and pull my hair back into a ponytail. Some of my hair falls out and frames my face, but I ignore it. I tie on my black apron, which isn't that big; just big enough for a pad of paper, a pen or two, some straws and napkins.

Mathew and David are our cooks. They're here full time. Matthew has always been nice and a good guy to talk to, but David I've always found kinda creepy. And I know this isn't a good thing but I take slight relief in the fact that he's always been extremely creepy towards Cara out of any of us.

Christina, Cara, Shauna, and I are waitresses. Lynn is the hostess, and the one who takes the bills, and Molly fills in when needed, though Max doesn't like to let her work the customers very much because she has a bad attitude when it comes to dealing with people who disagree with her or annoy her. She can be a bit of a hot head, much like Peter the Prick.

One of Eric's goons are always sitting in the back watching us, making sure no one handles us inappropriately. All of the guests here who are also guests at Dauntless know that if they see us in public, they are not to address us by our stage names or even mention the club. No one is let in unless they are invited by a member. And if any member breaks the code and calls us out in public, they are banned from the club and will most likely have a target on their back from Max and his men.

Harrison is back there today. He's just sitting in one of the back booths, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper, or so it seems. Though he's not the only one keeping an eye on us. Max or Eric are probably watching the footage from the security cameras lined all over the building right now to make sure we stay in line. They like to get here before the cops if something happens.

It's just Shauna and me working when we open. Technically it's just Shauna since we open at 4pm. I get here on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at 4:30. Cara will get here at 5pm, and Christina will get here at 6pm. Lynn is here sometime between 4:30 and 5pm. She and Max have some kind of mutual understanding that she'll get there between those times and not to push her on it. How she got him to agree to it, I have no idea. But I imagine it has something to do with performing free acts for him in private time.

Eric would never let me have that much freedom. He has me a tight leash. At times it feels tighter than everyone else's, but I know better than to ask for time off. We all do.

Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays are the days I dance so I'm out of there by 9:45pm and on my way to the club. All the other days except for Sundays I'm here till 3am when it closes, just like the club. Thankfully the club and the diner are both closed Sundays so we all get a day off.

It's not usually busy until 5ish, so I'm not surprised to see only a handful of people here.

"Hey Tris. How was class?" Shauna asks, sleep still apparent in her eyes. She's not in school anymore so she has been taking care of her neighbors kids from 10am to 3pm. She and Tori are the only dancers not in school, and if you're not in school, you tend to get transferred. Dauntless is only a club that likes to display younger women. Educated women tend to go to Erudite, to escort and converse with the high made CEO's of the city. Having an education makes the experience more pleasurable for the men or women who come. Cara will probably go there. Candor receives the next grouping of educated dancers. Christina is likely to be transferred there in the next few years. Abnegation tends to receive the slightly educated women. Amity receive women with or without education, but those who can be family friendly. I have a feeling this is where Shauna will be transferred. Tori would have been transferred to Erudite a few years ago, but she's so good here that Max kept her.

"It was fine." I decide not to tell her about creepy Mr. Thompson. Having Christina know is enough.

I go to setting up the display at the front counter when the bell rings at the front door, signaling that someone has entered. We have the sign up that says "Please Seat Yourselves" since Lynn is not here yet.

"Tris, that's your table." Shauna says to me as she's grabbing food from Matthew.

"Alright." I sigh as I push myself to my feet and grab my notepad and some menus. I turn to head towards the table when I freeze. Why did it have to be him?

Edward sits at the table, smiling at me. He's just a year or so older than me, and a regular at the club. His blonde hair is like a flame drawing in moths to their death. His icy blue eyes remind me so much of Eric, yet they're not even related.

"Hello Ra-"

"You know the rules Edward." I almost spit at him. "I'm Tris here. You call me by that name and you won't get let in to Dauntless anymore." I whisper in a harsh tone.

This makes him smile harder. "I know, I just like to tease you that's all." He reaches up and plays with the end of my pony which has fallen over my shoulder.

I set the menu down on his table. "Do you know what you want or do you need a minute?" Being a regular here, I have a feeling I'll know what he's going to order, but people can surprise you.

"Same as always honey bee."

Smiling at him like I'm supposed to, I take the menu and suppress a growl. I walk back behind the counter and momentarily out of sight from his gaze. Shauna is chatting with Matt. When she sees me coming her face drops.

"Tris I'm so sorry. If I had known that it was him I would have traded tables with you." Then she smiles. "I still could if you want! You can take my next customer and I'll take him."

"Is it Edward?" Matt asks. I nod. "Ew, sorry Tris. I thought Eric told him to stop coming around."

I sigh. "No, he only told him to stop coming around if he gets handsy with me in the diner. At the club it's a free for all as long as he pays. He almost used my stage name."

"Ouch." Matt says looking between us. He doesn't dance, but he's been working for Max for a long time and knows all about our night time jobs. "He could get thrown out for that."

Shauna looks more awake, and sounds a little pissed. "Only because Max doesn't want us to draw attention to ourselves in the day time. If we do that, we could get in trouble and then he could lose us as dancers."

"Except he's more worried about losing money from losing us rather than our well-being." I add in.

They both nod their heads in agreement.

The front bell rings again and we hear two men sit at one of the tables towards the front door. Shauna's section. She walks by us grabbing some menus and her notepad. When she comes back just a minute later her eyes are wide and her face is red.

"What's wrong?"

"It's him…" She says then she giggles like a school girl. Matt and I share a look before looking back at her. Has she finally lost it?

"Who's him?" Matt asks.

"Go see for yourself." She has a large smile on her face as she shrinks to the floor. I need to bring Edward his coke anyway.

I walk out in the opposite direction of Shauna's table that's making her giggle, and towards Edward. I set the coke on his table, but he grabs my wrist before I can leave.

"Will I see you tonight?" He asks quietly.

"You know my schedule better than anyone Edward. Tonight is my night off."

"That doesn't answer my question." He smiles a snakelike smile.

"No. I'm here all night. I'm not coming to see you nor will I ever." I smile politely then turn back to go to the counter while taking a glance at the table by the door.

Two young men sit at the table by the window. One with darker skin and black hair that is so shaggy it's hitting his neck. He does look quite attractive I'll give him that, and he wears an easy smile showing off his white teeth. He laughs loudly and frequently and looks like he knows how to have fun. I can't see the face of the other man, but he has dark brown hair, much shorter than the first but still hanging slightly in his eyes. They both wear black jackets, but the one with darker skin is wearing faded old jeans as opposed to the other man who is wearing a much dressier pair.

I walk back behind the counter. "Who is he? And which one?"

She gawks at me. "Every story I've ever told you about him, and you don't recognize him?" Her voice becomes smaller, like a child.

I shrug my shoulders. "Sorry."

Shauna peeks back around the corner. Then turns back to us. "The one with the longer dark hair. Ezekiel Pedrad. Zeke!"

"Oh, that guy is Zeke?" I ask her in a little disbelief. He's much cuter than I thought.

Shauna's favorite past time has been telling us of her childhood, at least the happy part when her parents were still alive. In almost every single one of her stories, she talks about a little boy with chocolate colored skin named Zeke. Or at least then, she called him Zeezee. His mother would babysit them since their parent's houses were right next to each other and his mother worked from home. He was just a few months older than her so they did everything together. Then the two of them turned to four, when his younger brother and her younger sister, Lynn, was born. Then five when Shauna's brother was born.

Her favorite story to tell is one where they were crossing the street to go to school, Zeke's mother having just dropped them off when a car came zooming by and almost took her out, but six year old Zeke pulled her out of the way just in time. Then Zeke proceeded scold her in the best way a six year old could; by bunching his pudgy fists together and waving them around in the same manner as his mother, yelling "Shauna Rickard watch where you going." Even though when they were younger, she said he said her name more like Sauna.

Around the time when she was 7 or 8 years old, Zeke's family reportedly moved away without any notice or hint at where they were going.

Now he's back

"Did he recognize you?" Matt asks.

Her smile disappears. "No. He didn't. And I even told them my name."

"Maybe he's high." Matt suggests laughing to himself.

Shauna smacks him upside the head. If there's one thing Shauna will not tolerate, it's drugs.

"He wouldn't do that." She says sternly.

"You can't say that for certain though. You haven't seen him in what, 15 years?" I ask calmly.

"So?"

"So isn't it possible that he's changed from what you knew him as?"

She thinks it over. Then she releases a tired sounding sigh. She nods her head, but I can see that she doesn't want to believe that he's changed. She's still holding onto the little 8 year old boy she grew up with. Her confidant and best friend. When I look at Shauna in this moment, I see Susan in future years, seeing Caleb again for the first time. He won't know who she is and she'll be hanging onto the boy who left.

"TRIS? WHERE'S MY FOOD?!" Edward's voice carries through the whole place.

I groan and Matthew hands me the plate of food.

Shauna seems to snap out of her funk and gets drinks for Zeke and his friend. I walk from behind the counter and walk straight towards Edward. I know that a few of the eyes in the diner are on me, including Edward's. He smiles at me in a way that makes me slightly nauseous. I set his food down softly on the table, even though I'd like to dump it on his head.

"Thank you Tris." He says sweetly.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" I ask as nicely as I can muster.

"No thank you. Not yet anyway." He says the last part as a double innuendo, in a hushed voice so that only I can hear.

I withhold a grimace, and try not to stomp back behind the counter, not before running into Harrison. "It's noting I can't handle." I say simply to him. He backs off but keeps a close eye on Edward.

"Tris, the guy sitting with Zeke knows you." Shauna says when she gives Matt the guys at her table's order.

I pale at this. Enough people know me. "What do you mean he knows me?"

She waves her hand. "Not from Dauntless. From school. Says he's in one of your classes."

"That's not creepy." Matt says in a suspicious manner while layering meat on a sandwich. "Did he want anything?"

"No. He was commenting to Zeke that he knew her when I walked over." Shauna says to him. Her head drops sadly out of the fact that he still doesn't recognize her.

Matt groans. "Enough of this." Then he slams a pan on the floor making a loud noise, causing us both to jump back. "SHAUNA RICKARD WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" He yells to no one in particular.

Everything in the diner goes silent.

"Why did you do that?" Shauna whispers angrily at Matt, who is smiling to himself like nothing just happened.

"You wanted him to remember you. Maybe he just needed a push." Her face turns red and I have to stifle laughter. "Order up." He sets their orders on the counter in front of Shauna, who is fuming at him.

Matt and I both crane our necks around the counter opening and watch as Shauna delivers their food. She's about to turn around when the boy, Zeke grabs her hand, his eyes wide. Within seconds they're both laughing and hugging. He's introducing Shauna to the other boy, who apparently knows me, but I still can't see his face.

"Who are you guys spying on?" Lynn's voice catches us off guard as she walks into our area.

"Do you remember a guy named Zeke?" Matt asks.

Lynn thinks for a moment, then nods. "Yeah, we grew up with a Zeke. But then he left. I was 5 years old so I don't remember him super well. But I know who he is."

"He's out there right now. Shauna recognized him." I say motioning with my head towards the front table.

She turns immediately out into the seating area and stands there in shock watching.

"Lynn! It's Zeke!" Shauna cries excitedly when she spots her little sister. Lynn walks over to them and she and Zeke embrace in a short hug.

I begin to move around and help some others who recently came into the diner.

"You gals certainly grew up." The guy named Zeke says, a smile in his voice.

"Same could be said about you." Lynn says back. "How long has it been?"

"Just over 15 years." Shauna says too quickly. Her cheeks red with happiness. She's gigging too. We almost never hear Shauna giggle. She laughs sure, but giggle, no.

I smile at the sound. It's nice to fill this place with the sound of laughter.

"Shauna, Lynn, this is my best friend, Four."

I freeze. It couldn't possibly be. Why him? Why couldn't it be some guy from the back of one of my classes? Not the guy who's a T.A in my class. Not the guy who saw me trip and fall into the room late, and continued to stare at me. I'm done for. If he's actually a decent guy and he finds out what I really do, he's going to report it or try and get me help by talking to my boss. That's a good way to get him killed. And not to mention the repercussions I'm going to suffer. I would be dancing without pay or tips for the next month. Or worse, I could be transferred to the Gutter.

"Normally there's five of us working out here, but right now it's just Lynn, Tris and I." Please don't tell them more about me Shauna. "Lynn and Tris are still in school but I graduated last year." Stick to yourself. "Lynn is going into Human Resources and Tris is going into Creative Writing, though we all think she could be some big science geek if she wanted." Shut it Shauna. "She's really smart when it comes to that kind of thing. She helped me with my chemistry homework when she wasn't even in it." Hush. Your. Mouth. "She's right over there." I can feel their eyes on me. "Tris! Come over and meet new people." Dammit Shauna. "She's usually pretty shy so I have to get her to talk to people." That's only partially the truth. Beatrice is shy. Raven is outgoing. Tris is somewhere in between.

I look up, pretending to only just be hearing her. I finish taking the customer's order and walk over to them.

"Zeke, Four, this is Tris."

"Nice to meet you Tris." Zeke extends his hand. They're both standing now. I thought Zeke would be taller, but he's just barely over Shauna's height at 5'8". Four on the other hand is towering above me. He can't be any shorter than six feet. I'm barely 5'5" when I'm not in heels. The towering height makes me shiver, because it reminds me of Eric.

"Nice to meet you too." I say politely.

Four doesn't extend his hand to me. I'm about to comment on it, but Zeke butts in. "Four doesn't shake hands. He's got some weird fear about it."

"I do not." Four says sternly.

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Then shake her hand." Zeke challenges smirking.

Four glares at him. At first glance I would say he's intimidating, but now I'm not so sure.

"Do you have a fear of germs or something?" Lynn asks.

"No." He doesn't elaborate. He actually looks rather uncomfortable talking about this topic. I can be nice. Even if the universe can't.

"It's fine. Let's just drop the subject okay?" I butt in. Zeke shrugs his shoulders, Lynn looks stonewall, and Shauna looks confused. Four looks almost grateful, but I must be imagining it. I excuse myself to go back to work and soon Lynn does the same. Shauna stays and talks for a little while longer before finally coming back to work when it starts to get busy. Christina has showed up now. Cara too. Soon the place is bouncing and loud like we know it to be.

"Tris, I'm leaving. Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" Edward's voice rings out. My face turns red and my knuckles white. I grit my teeth and turn to him. Shauna gives me an apologetic look. I wave her off and walk over to the door.

"Leave Edward. NOW." I growl at him.

He smiles wide. "I love it when you talk to me that way." Then he turns to leave. "See you tomorrow night." My blood pressure is through the roof.

Zeke and Four leave after a while. But before they go, Zeke makes it apparent to Shauna that they need to catch up sometime soon. They agree to meet on Sunday. Zeke was pushing for tomorrow night, and Shauna tried to tell him that she's busy but he seemed so anxious to talk to her. I watched them carefully and when Zeke asked what she was doing tomorrow night I walked into their conversation.

"She's going to be at my apartment. Girls' night you know. Friday night we're working. Then Saturday a bunch of us are getting together to watch a movie, girls only though." I say as casually as I can. "You guys should go out Sunday."

Shauna blushes, and Zeke stammers. "Well we'll hang out, right? Going out sounds so much like a date."

"Yeah of course." Shauna laughs nervously. I hope she's not getting any ideas.

Four is waiting by the door, watching us carefully. I can't decide if him watching us like that is a good thing or a bad thing. Sure it's kind of creepy like when any guy stares. Although, his staring seems almost comforting, like a watchful protector. Not that I need protecting or anything. That's just a ridiculous thought. I can take care of myself just fine. Right?

The bell on the door rings when they leave, and I turn to Shauna. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." She says anxiously. She's always been a horrible liar.

"Shauna, you know you can't get involved with a guy. Max will kill you, and then throw you to the Gutter. Literally."

"Shut up Tris. It's none of your business anyway."

"None of my business? Shauna, if you get hurt and I knew I could have stopped it, that is completely my business. I'm just trying to help you." I plead with her quietly as to avoid drawing attention to ourselves.

"Then help me get out."

I sigh. We all want out. "Shauna…"

She huffs, knowing what I'm going to say. We've all said it to her at some point over the last year. She doesn't want to hear it. I don't want to say it. But it's dangerous to talk like this, and she's not getting that we are screwed to this business for life. Or at least until Max decides our life is over.

Tears are pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I just want this to be over with. Just, everything to be done."

"You know Max is never going to let you go."

"We can run away."

"He'll find us."

"No he won't."

"Wanna bet?"

We've moved behind the counter now, and tears are freely falling down her face. She leans against the wall and slides down it, hugging her knees to her chest. "I hate it here."

"So do I." I sit down next to her. "Right now we don't really have a choice."

"We always have a choice." She continues to mutter the word 'always' to herself.

"You stay here, I'll take your tables." I say standing. She doesn't even acknowledge me.

Harrison is standing by the edge of the counter, eyeing Shauna suspiciously. "She's not feeling well." I lie easily to him. He grunts and goes back to his seat.

We finish the night in a calm vibe. I finish the little bit of homework I have. Christina eventually joined us and got to work helping me with Shauna's tables. She eventually pulls herself together, after about an hour. Matt and I don't bring up Zeke anymore. Christina knows I'm keeping something from her, but I mouth the word "Later" to her and she understands. We're all on camera's here. Max could be watching our every step. No one mentions the horrible life we're living. No one brings up the idea of leaving Max.

****I'm thinking the next chapter might be Four's POV, but haven't fully decided yet. Let me know what you think! Please Review!****


	5. Chapter 5

**GUESS WHO'S BACK!? AHAHAHA hello everyone! Soooo terribly sorry for my absence but I had to finish my novel for NaNoWriMo! Still need to come up with a name for it though… I have some ideas, but can't decide. Tell me which one(s) sound most interesting to you guys!**

**A bit of background for you: the main character's younger sister is murdered in the summer and a whole butt load of secrets surround the family that are slowly uncovered. Rachel – the main character – has foggy green eyes that were supposed to be brighter green, like her murdered sister's. Summer storms are very common in this place and they live in a class system. Lower, Middle and Upper Class. Rachel is in the Middle Class.**

**A Sister's Scream**

**Fog and Green**

**Summer Storm**

**Summer Scream**

**Natural Storm**

**Natural Secrets**

**I'm not set on any of these by any means but if you guys want to contribute, the more the merrier!**

**To address some reviews: **

**ZariTheAtari – "****Great Chapter I love it! And the Zeke and Shaina thing is very good. But I thought Edward didn't like Tris. But whatever it's you fanfiction"**

_**I know I changed it around a bit, but like you said, it's my fanfiction **__** And he is going to be a key player in future chapters. Drama to come!**_

**Emma . Andrea – "****I like the different POV's, but please don't do the same events in both Tris and Fours POV (like chapter 2&amp;3). I got kind of dissapointed when I had to read the same thing twice from different angels. You could always just have them think about what happened and what they think about it."**

_**I'm sorry it wasn't what you were expecting, however I find it very interesting to write from different POV's in the same situations. I won't always do it, but I like to do it to give more background on the person. I think it rounds characters out so we get to experience their thoughts on certain things as well. If you really don't like it then skip this chapter because this is Four's POV of Chapter 4. I can tell you though that the next three chapters or so will not be like this. Happy reading!**_

**Blueraspbery-butterflies – "Four POV would be awesome! Could there be a little Christina/Will and Uriah/Marlene in the next chapter?"**

_**In this chapter unfortunately no, but I have introduced Uriah in one of the next chapters. Marlene will come in after that and I fully intend to keep Uriah/Marlene together. Will/Christina will be added as well but in future chapters.**_

**Madem Pedrad - "****This fic is AMAZING! I love the way you can describe everything! You are obviously a natural born writer! Please continue this fic! BTW if you can could you make an OC of me? I really REALLY love Uriah and usually people have him automatically with Mar. I would love you forever (which I already do because you wrote this crazy original fic)!"**

_**Unfortunately I love the Marlene/Uriah combo so it won't be happening. However… I could make an OC of you in my story **__** just send me via PM some details about your character – if you want to be an ex-flame of Uriah's, or maybe Uriah's crazy stalker that could work too – and I'll see what I can do. **_

**Guest – "when is her boob and butt job gonna come in? you said that her "boyish" appearance would be changed."**

_**Have a little faith in me. I like to work up to things and not jump right in, it's only Chapter 5. If it makes you feel any better I have already written that chapter and it will come in the next few weeks.**_

**Anyway, here is the next chapter! And yes, it is in Four's POV! Yayy! The next will be Tris, and I do have another Four POV written but am not sure if I'm going to add a small Tris in between or not. **

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.****

**Four's POV - Wednesday, September 17th**

I meet Zeke at the Pit shortly after 4:30. It's a small little shop but very popular among students. I've never been here before, since social events aren't really my thing, but I could see myself coming back.

He's waiting just outside the front doors wearing dark faded jeans and a black jacket. Similar outfit to mine, except mine is definitely dressier. The joys of being a T.A.

"Come on man, I'm starving." He claps me on the back, I wince, and we walk inside. He knows I don't like to be touched, especially there. There's a small sign that says Seat Yourself. Among the choices of tables and booths, Zeke sits down at a table right next to the door. I wonder for a moment if he picked this spot strategically so if anything bad went down we could make a quick getaway. He's been known to get in trouble.

"You ever been here before?" I ask him picking up the menu.

"Just a few times over the summer. The waitresses are hot, let me tell you." He's smiling. That would be the first thing he notices about a place. I roll my eyes slightly, just as our waitress comes up. She's pretty, that's for sure. Brown hair, just above her shoulders, and hazel eyes with flecks of gold.

"Hi there, welcome to the Pit, my name is Shauna. Is there anything I can start you guys off with?" She smiles at both of us, but her eyes widen a bit when she looks over at Zeke. He's not even looking at her, he's looking at the menu.

"I'll take a water, and the Initiate Burger." I say to her. She smiles kindly at me, but not in a way like I get from most girls.

"Pansycake." Zeke snorts at me. "I'll have a water too, and the full Pit Burger with extra bacon."

She looks at him a little too long, and he still doesn't notice. "Sure." She says and walks off.

I give Zeke a look and clear my throat so he looks up at me.

"What's with the face?" He asks me.

"You're more in tune with this subject than I am, but she was definitely looking at you."

"The waitress?"

"Yes the waitress."

Zeke looks around to where she disappeared to, but he still doesn't say anything. A small frown on his face. "Shauna was her name right?" I nod. "That name sounds really familiar." He bows his head and looks at the table with intent.

"TRIS? WHERE'S MY FOOD?!" A male voice carries through the whole place. We both look up to where it came from. A guy, probably a year or so younger than us sits at a table with a full view of wherever the waitress Shauna went. He has blonde hair, and cold eyes that for a moment remind me of my father.

That's when she walks out. Her blonde hair is up in a pony, and she's wearing the same clothes as Shauna. It must be a uniform. But the name Tris? I thought her name was Beatrice. She's carrying a plate of food and sets it down on his table. She doesn't look happy. I'm itching to get out of my seat just to go over and talk to her. That itch is intensified when the guy reaches for her, where he was aiming I'm not sure, but he went to grab her. Small amounts of adrenaline rush through me.

Shauna is at our table again with our waters.

"The food will be up shortly." She says smiling. Again, she focusing her attention on Zeke. Her eyes seem to be pleading with him.

Zeke just watches her, but seems to ignore his own thoughts. "Four, do you know her?"

"Who?"

"The other waitress. You're watching her like you recognize her."

Tris looks angry, but she says something softly to the guy and then stomps off back towards the counter.

Shauna turns back to us. "Do you know Tris?" She directs the question at me.

"I think she's in one of my classes at the University." I say simply.

She nods a little. "I'll go grab your food for you." Then she walks off.

As soon as she's out of sight Zeke tugs on my sleeve. "I swear Four, I know her from somewhere. It's on the tip of my tongue, I just can't place her."

"She's pretty."

He smiles. "So is that Tris girl." A light color runs to my cheeks.

"I don't know what you mean."

"And I call bullshit."

Before I can say anything in my defense, a loud crashing sound comes from the kitchen.

"SHAUNA RICKARD WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" Yells a male voice, but it's not an angry yell nor is it a shocked yell. That was a calculated move for reasons beyond me.

Zeke seems to come alive. "Shauna?" He mumbles her name over and over to himself.

She comes out from around the corner with our food and her head hung low. She's embarrassed and this time around she looks at Zeke as little as possible.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" She asks quietly. I shake my head, and Zeke is still mumbling to himself. Shauna looks a little deflated when she does look over at him. She knows him. She turns to leave when Zeke's hand flies out and grabs her wrist. Their eyes lock, and I swear it's a scene out of one of the cheesy romance movies you'd find down at the video store.

"Shauna?" He asks.

"Hi Zeke." She smiles. For a moment I thought he was going to kiss her with that look in his eyes. Instead he pulls her into a hug. Soon they're both laughing and talking a million miles per hour. I try to drown them out by looking out the window. I'm not used to happy reunions like this and I'd be lying if I said I liked to listen to them.

"This is my best friend Four." Zeke's voice catches my attention.

The girl Shauna nods to me, unable to contain the smile on her face. "Nice to meet you Four." She doesn't even question my name. Maybe she's alright. She's about to hold out her hand to shake mine, but I cringe away. I don't shake hands. I don't like people touching me period. Zeke knows my past, but wouldn't dare mention it to anyone, so he's resorted to telling everyone I'm germ-a-phobic.

"Lynn! It's Zeke!" Shauna is crying excitedly and waving another girl over. Practically a younger version of Shauna but her hair is cut extremely short on top and completely shaved on the sides. I don't see many girls with that hairstyle.

Zeke Shauna, and apparently Lynn who is Shauna's younger sister, continue to talk. But out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Beatrice… Tris, moves around the diner easily and quickly helping many others. Some are probably Shauna's customers, yet she's helping them and letting Shauna reunite with Zeke. Very selfless of her. Her blonde hair bounces in her ponytail. I can't tear my eyes away and I don't know why.

"Shauna, Lynn, this is my best friend Four." He gestures to me again. Shauna makes some comment that he already introduced her to me, but Lynn is staring at me like I'm crazy.

"Four?" She asks, some humor hiding in her voice.

"Yes. Problem?"

She shakes her head, a stern look on her face. "Not at all."

Shauna's voice begins to carry over the diner. "Normally there's five of us working out here, but right now it's just Lynn, Tris and I. Lynn and Tris are still in school but I graduated last year. Community college." She looks back at Zeke. "Lynn is going into Human Resources and Tris is going into Creative Writing, though we all think she could be some big science geek if she wanted." I glance over at Tris who to anyone else would appear to be working hard, but I can tell she's listening in. Her shoulders tense at the sound of her name. "She's really smart when it comes to that kind of thing. She helped me with my chemistry homework when she wasn't in it." Interesting. "She's right over there. Tris! Come over and meet new people." Tris is really tense right now, but she looks over with a false confused face as though she _just_ now heard Shauna talking about her. She doesn't look happy. Her mouth is kept in tight line to prevent any real emotion from showing. "She's usually pretty shy so I have to get her to talk to new people." I can see that, though I feel kind of bad for her being thrust into situations she doesn't want to be in. It's not a bad thing to be antisocial.

Tris walks over slowly, each step a little tenser.

"Zeke, Four, this is Tris."

Her blue-gray eyes are stormy, flashing between Zeke and myself, but she lingers on me. She recognizes me.

"Nice to meet you." She says politely shaking Zeke's hand and then turning to me. She looks at me expectantly and looks like she's about to open her mouth, when Zeke cuts in.

"Four doesn't shake hands. He's got some weird fear about it." Here we go.

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not." I almost growl at him.

"Then shake her hand." He smirks. It's just part of the act I know, but it's still frustrating.

"Do you have a fear of germs or something?" Lynn asks looking at me with a small smirk on her face. She's making fun of me.

"No." I say sternly.

"It's fine. Let's just drop the subject okay?" Tris's voice carries even if she doesn't mean for it to. It's soft, but firm. I can feel my face soften at her words and she locks eyes with me. I give her a small nod as if to say thank you.

She excuses herself then to tend to other customers. Lynn eventually goes back to work as well, but Shauna remains within arms distance of Zeke. If he can't tell that this girl is head over heels for him then he deserves a slap upside the head.

We finally do sit down to eat when the place gets busier. The food is good I'll give them that.

"Tris, I'm leaving. Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" A voice rings out. Zeke and I turn to the door and stare at the blonde guy from earlier who grabbed at Tris.

She stomps through the diner, most eyes on her as the guy stands there smirking. "Leave Edward. NOW." She growls at him. Saying that her growling is hot would be an understatement. My face instantly heats up and I look away from that area. Keeping my head down so Zeke can't see it.

"I love it when you talk to me that way. See you tomorrow night." He says then leaves.

Tomorrow night? They couldn't be together, could they? Maybe he'll just be back at the diner tomorrow and that's what he means.

I glance up to watch her stomp back into the kitchen. Even Zeke looks a little concerned. But then Shauna brings him a slice of chocolate cake and all is well.

He starts to ask her out and Shauna is stumbling for an answer. I thought she would say yes in a heartbeat. He's pushing for tomorrow night, but it makes her stumble even more. I'm standing by the door waiting for Shauna to answer so that Zeke and I can leave. Not that I'm in a hurry or anything, but I do have some things to look over for my classes tomorrow.

"She's going to be at my apartment. Girls' night you know. Friday we're working. Then Saturday a bunch of us are getting together to watch a movie, girls only though." Tris to the rescue. I watch them carefully. "You guys should go out on Sunday." She offers, in a tone that could pass as happy. It looks as though both girls are walking on glass, one wrong step could hurt them. What are they hiding?

"Well, we'll hang out right? Going out sounds so much like a date." Zeke stammers a little. I never hear him stammer.

"Yeah of course." Shauna laughs nervously.

Oh brother.

I roll my eyes slightly, and continue to watch the interaction between Tris and Shauna. Something is not adding up.

Zeke and I leave shortly after and he is happier than I've seen him in a while.

I elbow him in the gut and he looks hurt. "What was that for?"

"Did you drag me here on purpose so you could get the guts to ask her out?"

"What? No."

"You said you had been here over the summer." I say getting into my car. He climbs into the passenger seat.

"She wasn't working when I went! Honestly!"

I eye him skeptically.

"What about you and that Tris girl?"

Now I look away. I shouldn't have, because now he knows something is stirring around in my head. "She's in one of my classes, that's it."

He laughs, happy to have the attention off of him. "Sure. Whatever you say. I see something there, mark my words Four."

"Whatever you say Zeke."

***Please review!***


	6. Chapter 6

****Hello hello hello everyone! Again thank you so much for the patience while I was away. I should remain on track for the next handful of chapters because I don't foresee any upcoming events really that would block my ability to update.**

**One of you lovely reviewers brought up a very important point that I would like to bring up. The idea that Tris needs to be a bigger size in the chest, have more hips or whatever to look more womanly. I am in NO WAY trying to say that a bigger chest and better curves makes one female more feminine than the other. Personally, I am a B cup (sometimes a C depending on the style of bra) and have very little hip curve, but I love my body! Everyone is unique and their own person, so whether or not you have an A cup, or a DD cup, you are beautiful! This is just my story and I am involving some body alterations – however, they are a little different than just flat out implants. I hope no one was offended by my plan to alter Tris's body.**

**Special thank you to nana924 for bringing up this important topic!**

**And for those of you hoping for some FourTris action, there isn't really any in this chapter, but come on and give me some time. I want this to be a multi chapter story so I need to build up to things. If you're impatient, then that's unfortunate. I can guarantee you that there is some tension between the two to come – I've already written some for future chapters!**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Tris POV - Thursday, October 9th (Notice the time jump!)**

Christina and I are both bent over panting at the end of our Phys. Ed class. We had to run three miles in 25 minutes or less. We do this every Thursday until every single person in the class can run three miles in 20 minutes or less. Working out and being in shape is what my life is all about right now, but running for no reason other than to beat a time is not my cup of tea. Christina beat me over the finish line by two seconds. Granted we are almost always the first females in the class to finish, we're still tired.

"That was more of a three mile sprint if you ask me." Christina says as we walk back to the locker room. Well, stumble back. It was the fastest three miles I'd run in a long time. I did track when I was younger, and could at one point run a 5 minute 35 second mile. Now, I'm lucky if I get under 7 minute consistently. Christina ran her three miles in 20 minutes and 16 seconds. Me 20 minutes 18 seconds.

"That's because you're timed. It's always more stressful that way, making it feel worse than it actually is." A male voice says from behind us. We both turn around and come face to face with a male version of Tori. Younger, but still older than us. Mocha skin with midnight hair, even their amber brown eyes are the same. Christina looks like she was about to smack a hand over her own mouth from saying anything, but she holds herself steady. "You guys were really good out there." He smiles at us. "I'm George."

Christina and I share a look, both knowing exactly who he is.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Christina, and this is my best friend Beatrice."

He shakes our hands politely. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance Christina and Beatrice." Then he smiles almost shyly. "Are you guys majoring in Phys. Ed or just taking the class to stay in shape?"

"We're minoring in it." Chris says.

"Excellent! Well I'll see you guys around. I'm the newly assigned T.A for this class since this is my major. Have a good day." Then he excuses himself and I swear he grimaces before going into the men's locker room.

"Well he was nice." Christina says as we begin to change.

Wait a minute. Robert said he had a roommate majoring in Phys. Ed. George. Oh. "I think that was Robert's new roommate."

"Really? I would totally go into saying how cute he is, but seeing as he's Tori's brother that might get a little inappropriate."

"Robert thinks he's gay."

Christina laughs lightly. "I can see that. Oh well, whatever makes him happy."

We go back to the locker room and begin to strip for a short shower.

"Ready for tonight?" Christina calls to me from the shower stall next door.

"Oh totally." I call back in a slightly sarcastic tone.

I hear her laughing. Eric said there was going to be something new tonight, so we had to be to Dauntless early to hear about it. To be perfectly honest, I'm a little nervous. Whenever Eric has something planned, it's generally for his benefit, not ours.

We finish changing back into our clothes, which is mostly just sweats or old jeans because this is our only class Tuesdays and Thursdays. We have two hours before the diner opens at 4pm and then onto Dauntless tonight before 10pm. A shiver runs through me at the thought of seeing Edward again tonight. Doing anything he can to reserve me for private dances is really beginning to scare me, but there's nothing I can do about it. As long as he doesn't physically hurt me and keeps paying, Eric is more than happy to keep him coming in. He's been getting handsier and bolder when it comes to asking for me. I wouldn't go so far as to say that Max "pimps" us out. We don't do anything sexual really. That's more the Gutter style, as long as the girl doesn't get hurt. But I am concerned that if Edward keeps the money coming, Eric will give him more freedom with me. That is something I do not want.

Peter has been getting off watching us for free recently too. He'll find peep holes in the dancing rooms and watch as we make guys who pay happy.

Deciding to take a short nap before tonight goes down, Christina and I go back to our apartment and turn out the lights. We need this sometimes, so we make sure to have black curtains on the windows to expel as much light as possible.

I crash onto my bed after laying out my clean Pit uniform.

I hear Christina snoring before my eyes flutter closed.

_We're in the middle of Dauntless, dancing it up. Music blaring, drums pounding, men cheering. I live for this. They throw money at me faster than I can keep track. Eric's laugh sounds out from the rafters above where there's a special viewing platform only Gold Members know about; the ones who pay the most and come the most. _

_I see Christina dry humping a guy in the audience, while some other guy pours vodka down her open mouth._

_Lynn is over on one of the side wall poles doing acrobatic things that are beyond me. Shauna is on the opposite wall keeping up with her younger sister easily. _

_Tori is swinging from a rope around the entire place._

_Everyone is cheering. The noise is deafening. _

_Then all the lights go out. There is no noise. No air to breathe. I'm confined inside a small dark box. I try to move my head and squint my eyes to get some glance at my surroundings, but it's nothing. _

_The lights come on. I'm not in Dauntless any more. I'm in a room, with a golden floor, and mirrors for walls. Copies of Raven stare back at me, some of them are confused, some are laughing manically, some are scared, some are brave. Then the floor and the ceiling become mirrors as well. I'm everywhere. No, Raven is everywhere. But this is not the Raven I'm used to. This Raven is older, curvier, and her hair is real. Suddenly all the Ravens are smiling at me, but their smile reminds me of Eric. Its uncomforting. _

"_Help me!" My voice cries, but I didn't speak. _

_All the Ravens and myself look towards the source of the voice. Standing with no reflection of her own, is a girl, age sixteen maybe. She has ashy blonde hair and sad smoky blue eyes. She's crying. No tattoo on her collarbone. Blood on her hands. _

"_Help me please!" My voice cries again. _

_I shouldn't help her. It's her fault her parents died. That's why her brother left her. Her fault. Her fault._

_No, it wasn't! There was no way of knowing what would have happened!_

_She's the one who got scared and begged them to come home early. If she had been brave, they would still be alive!_

_She didn't know!_

_It was her fault!_

_All of the Raven's begin laughing, I'm laughing. That pathetic excuse of a girl died a long time ago. Only Raven remains._

_I watch as the girl's body begins to contort in odd directions. Her hair darkens to the color of night. She grows another inch or so. Fills out only slightly. Raven tattoos appear on her collarbone, and her eyes are darkened by heavy makeup. Soon, she begins to laugh too. We are all laughing._

My alarm wakes me up. My body is covered in a light layer of sweat, and I'm out of breath like I just ran stairs or did Eric's favorite routine twice without a break. He likes to have two or three girls give a private dance in room 1, the biggest private room, to new first time members for 70% off. He calls it the Initiate Dance. It's slow, erotic, and then speeds up towards the end. Guaranteed to keep them coming back.

I can hear the water running in the bathroom. Christina is already up. It wasn't a long rest, but it was much needed. We have a half hour before we need to be to the Pit.

My arms shake slightly as I put on my uniform and pin my nametag in place.

That was not a pleasant dream.

I know it's not my fault they died, but sometimes it really does feel like it is. My decisions are what caused them to get into their car and drive home. I was sixteen, I would have been fine.

Remembering that night is no problem, but it's something I don't wish to do often. Caleb blamed me. I know he did, even if he never said it out loud. He hated me for it. That's why he left. He couldn't bear to look at me. Seeing my mother's blonde hair and father's gray blue eyes. He didn't know, but I loved to look at him, especially his eyes. Mother's soft green eyes, like a field of grass in the summer. But his eyes became dark after it happened. He missed a haircut here and there and fathers brown hair began to grow out on his head. He would get angry, and yell, but he never hurt me. I never told anyone how bad Caleb could get. One night I screamed back, and the next morning he was gone.

I hated myself for driving him off like that, but we both needed space. Needed to figure out the best way for each of us to handle our parents being gone and grieve. Turns out he just need to be states away from me.

Neither of us have tried to contact the other since that night.

"What do you think Eric has in store for us tonight?" Christina asks walking out of the bathroom in her uniform.

"Knowing him, it could be anything."

She nods. "Tori thinks it's a new dance routine. Lynn thinks it's something to do with Max."

"Why Max?" I ask her.

Christina smiles. "Lynn said she overheard Eric on the phone with him last week. It sounds like we're getting another dancer soon."

Inside, I'm screaming at the new girl to get away. But on the inside, that means less spotlight on me. The newest dancer always gets the most attention for the first week or so of their time at Dauntless.

"It sounds like someone might be leaving too." She adds, her voice low.

"Do we know who?"

She shakes her head. We're all terrified of being transferred. Shauna instantly pops into my mind, but I try to ignore it. Any of us could be transferred really. Heck, even Lauren could go.

"What do you think would happen if we all left Max at once?" Christina asks out loud. "It's easier for him to catch us when it's just one person running. So if we all decided one day, to just not show up, what do you think would happen?"

"I think you'd better not ask that kind of question out loud Christina." I say, warning in my voice. Then whisper, "But it is an idea worth considering."

She smiles and nods.

Soon we are back in her car and on our way to work the Pit. Shauna and Cara are already there. Lynn arrives soon after, and it's time to work. Usual customers come in and out, ordering burgers, extra fries, and of course cake.

"I've been trying something new." Matthew says when I deliver him another order.

"And that is?" Shauna asks looking through her phone. I'd asked her how her "hang out" with Zeke went, and she just giggled.

"Taking the cake mix, and making it into cookies." He pulls out a tray of chocolate cookies. "Cake-cookies!"

Shauna and I look at each other and shrug. We each take one and take a bite. It's the moistness of chocolate cake, but the stability of a cookie, it's wonderful. Shauna actually moans. Maybe she's too worked up.

Then she actually runs out of the kitchen to Max's guard dog of the day, Damien Heller, and squeals to him. Matthew suddenly looks nervous. Heller walks in and takes a cookie, nodding approvingly as he eats it. This is how we get new ideas to Max. If someone has an idea, they make it and give a sample to Max's minion watching over us. If they like it, they'll have the worker fill out an official request to add it to the menu and then if Max approves it, you get a $100 bonus.

Shauna then hurries all of the girls working in when she can and makes them try a cookie, eating a few more herself. Moaning each time. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were giving her an orgasm.

"Matthew you're a genius!" Christina exclaims. "Cake-cookies! It's so simple. Why didn't we think of it?" She turns to look at the rest of us.

"If Max doesn't approve this I think I'll seriously cry." Shauna says while taking a fifth cookie. Lynn is eyeing her strangely, but with a small smile in the corner of her mouth.

Even Matthew, though he is happy to take the compliment, looks a little worried.

Edward didn't come to the Pit today, which I am very thankful for, but Zeke decided to stop by. It's been three weeks or so since he and Four stopped in. As far as I know, Zeke and Shauna have stayed in touch, texting, calling, or hanging out on Sundays.

"Zeke, nice to see you again." I say as I walk by him.

"Always the pleasure Tris. You know where Shauna is by any chance?"

I nod towards the kitchen. He follows me, keeping close to avoid Heller from spotting him.

"Shauna, someone here to see you." I say as Zeke walks into her line of sight. Her face is stuffed with chocolate cake-cookies, and she still manages to smile and look beautiful.

He laughs as she tries to swallow the chunk in her mouth.

I hear the front door open once more and poke my head out. Half expecting to see Four walk in looking for Zeke, but it's not. It's just a couple. A small pang of disappointment ripples through me. _It's for the best._ I take a deep breath and go out to finish my shift, ignoring that uncomfortable rock in the pit of my stomach of disappointment.

Zeke leaves about ten minutes later. Christina, Cara, and Lynn are finishing up out on the floor. Since the Pit is to remain open until 3am, Max brings in hired help to watch the place. They should be here soon.

I walk into the locker room where Shauna is trying to shove a small box into hers.

"What's in there?" I ask her as I put my apron away.

"Nothing." She says quickly.

"You know you're going to get a stomach ache from eating all those." I motion to the napkin filled with cake-cookies.

"Fine." She says.

Her expression is serious now. "Shauna what's wrong?"

"I can't do it. I can't fall in love with him and I already know that I am. He's going to find out Tris. He's going to find out and then everything is going to fall apart. Max will transfer me and Zeke won't want anything to do with me. I'm used, owned. I'm a fucking slave Tris!"

"We all are. It's nothing new." I shrug at her outburst. Me fighting her will only upset her more. "You know if Max or Eric find out, they'll put you in the cage."

She shudders. "I know Tris."

The cage is something every dancer hates. Under the main dance floor of the club is the hallway to the private rooms when people reserve us for viewings. But underneath that, is the cage. It's a square glass box. We wear chains around our wrists and ankles and are forced to dance with no air conditioning. Viewers will watch from around the glass and toss money towards the cage, which is sucked through a vacuum like device and blown up into the glass with us. The worst part isn't that we get no breaks or water when we're in the cage, it's that none of the money thrown at us is ours to keep. No tips are made in the cage. It goes all to the club.

There was a girl a long time ago, her stage name was Storm, and it was said that she was in the cage for three weeks straight and nearly died from the heat exhaustion. They say she was so close to death that for her last burst of energy, she broke the glass just to breath cool air. She was then transferred to Abnegation. What makes her special, is that she is the only girl to escape Max completely unharmed. She disappeared, and no one had heard of her since.

She sighs heavily. "Earrings." She pulls out the box she was just trying to stuff in. It's a red box with some designer name on the top. "He bought me a pair of $300 earrings." She opens it to reveal two crystal cut tear drop earrings, shining whenever the light hits them.

"Wow." I look back at her face. Her dark brown eyes are trained on the earrings. A small smile plays on her face.

"Yeah, wow."

"We ready to go see what Eric has in store for us?" Christina's voice carries into the locker room.

"I suppose." Shauna says shutting the box and quickly stuffing it away. I just shrug.

Heller sees us out and makes sure we're safely in our vehicles. Then watches as we pull out of the lot and onto the road. It would feel like security for a princess, except that's the one thing we're far from.

Dauntless parking lot is empty, which is to be expected. It doesn't open for another hour. Only a small handful of people are lined up outside.

We all walk in together through the dressing room. Eric is waiting for us.

"Welcome ladies. Tonight we will begin to introduce a new factor in your acts. Peter!" He yells up into the rafters. The lights on the stage come up then, along with the audience lights. There's a new dancing stand in the middle of the audience, accompanied by one pole, and surrounded by a plastic wall in a circular shape.

"The Tank ladies. A dancer will go in through the bottom, and then will be showered by water from above."

All the girls visibly stiffen. It looks so much like the cage, except it's obvious it's not. The tip mechanism is the same as the cage where money is vacuumed in through a device at the base of the platform. Eric makes sure to mention that of the money devoured by the machine, 20% will be ours.

"We have also added some, gym equipment." He says smirking. Then he points to the top of the stage, a little platform for one girl to dance at a time almost twenty five feet in the air. A zip line stretches from the very top of the room, rounds around the edge of the upper rim and then spirals again just above the crowd before ending back on stage. Honestly it looks like fun. I also notice two rope swings attached to the sides of the stage, for swinging no doubt. And now there are mirrored walls in the center of the stage, and they twist around as an optional entrance.

"Raven." His voice barks. It's my name but everyone looks back at Eric. "You're first on the zip tonight." He point to the zip line. "You're the lightest, so we'll see if it works properly on you now. Up you go." He pushes past me, motioning for me to follow. Some of the other girls give me a sympathetic look, but others look relieved that he didn't pick them to test it out. Honestly, I'd be in the latter category.

Eric and I walk up the spiral stairs to get there. It's a tiny platform, so having us both up there is tight. There's a small harness with it thank goodness. Eric straps me in, going head first. I don't ask if he's already tested this thing for safety reasons. It would be stupid.

"On you go Stiff." He teases. Stiff was a nickname for me when I first arrived. I had a hard time moving around fluidly.

"Drop through the stage gap when you're done." He says. I nod.

Then he pushes me off. I drop a good six feet before the zip line starts me around the room. It's a stomach in the throat feeling that I'm not too fond of. But I don't scream. The zip line is fast, I'm around the room and around again before I know what happened. My eyes have watered and my throat is dry. A smile comes to my face and I begin to laugh.

I notice Lynn and Christina smirking at me, while Cara shakes her head, and Tori whispers something to Shauna.

I unclip myself and fall into the whole in the stage and land on two layers of old king size mattresses.

Having never done anything like zip lining before, I know right now I would love to do something like that again, but longer, faster with more risk.

"Very good." I hear Peter's voice from behind me. "Enjoy it?"

"Yeah actually. That was a lot of fun."

He smiles, an actual genuine smile. I don't know if I've ever seen it on Peter. It looks good. Something made him happy today, because he doesn't mock me or bother blocking me for one reason or another to get up to get ready for work.

My outfit today is black and a navy blue with some body sparkles. Tomorrow is Friday, so it's our day to work at the Pit rather than dance. Unfortunately, the other group doesn't dance either. Tomorrow is the night of male dancers at Dauntless. Once a month, but it brings in a lot of women and some men to see the male dancers. They're allowed to be much more "you can look and touch" rather than our thing which is "look don't touch, unless we're giving you a dance and you pay."

My makeup, curtosie of Christina is black around the edges, and navy blue with sparkles just like my outfit. If I were going out to a club myself to dance I would put on nude lipstick at most to avoid looking like a stripper, but hey, that's practically my profession. My lips are coated in a bright bubblegum pink. I avoid looking at myself in mirrors whenever possible when I look like this.

Peter handed us a pair of wings tonight. Max's angels will fly. With the zip line, now we can, and I'm up first.

Everyone's wings are different. Our outfits always make sure to show off our tattooed Dauntless wings on our lower back. These new wings will just slide over our arms like a jacket would.

Christina is handed crystal white wings.

Shauna is handed hot pink wings.

Lynn is handed purple wings.

Tori is handed burnt orange wings.

Molly is handed dark green wings.

Cara is handed royal blue wings.

I'm given blackened blood red wings.

I wear my favorite black "fuck me" heels. They're the ones I've broken in the most, and therefore the most comfortable. They match my outfit anyway.

"Raven, you have a private dance scheduled right after your 11pm round on the zip line. Room 3. Then another at 1am in room 6." Peter says as I put on my wings and Lynn is helping straighten them out. I nod to him and he walks over calling out other scheduled rooms for the girls.

Taking one last glance in the mirror I walk out to just behind the stage where we all will do an opening act, wings included.

Raven is ready to play.

And play she does.

Raven takes over the stage. She pounds her feet to the beat, sways her hips in a sensual manner that Tris could never achieve. Her eyes scream sex appeal as she eye fucks any guy who stares at her too long. A small secret smile on the corner of her lips as people cheer her name. Money is shoved at her. This is was Raven lives for.

The zip line is a hit. I'm strapped in, and the next thing I know, I'm flying once more. Striking a pose that looks practiced by a professional. Edward is cheering the loudest for her, but he doesn't touch her tonight.

Raven is not sent to the new Tank tonight, but Candy and Luscious are. They bring in more money than before.

The first private dance goes fine and brings in money like Raven knows how. The second private dance makes Raven freeze in her tracks. Her breath is quick and labored, and not from a night of hard dancing. The one who has booked this room. Room 6, one of the most expensive rooms in all of Dauntless. Raven is to dance behind a sheet of glass for none other than Tris's professor.

His smile is evil and chilling. He watches her with hungry eyes. He's the only one in this room with a capacity for fifteen. Right up front.

Raven tries not to make too much eye contact, because it makes her miss a step. There's complementary lotion and tissues in this room. Raven watches as he pleasures himself to her dancing. Tris is sick on the inside. Everything feels heavy. But Raven pushes through. She dances hard and sensual. And when the time is up, she removes herself from the room as she is told to do.

He doesn't say anything at first. He just smiles at her. But when she walks past him, he grips her arm and whispers in her ear. "Thank you Raven. I look forward to seeing you in class tomorrow." Then he lets her go.

Tris wants to run and vomit. Scrub herself clean until her skin is raw and red. Raven calmly walks backstage to prepare for her duo with Bambi coming up.

_Professor Thompson. _Raven writes the name down for Tris. Another name to add to her shit list.

****Please review!****


	7. Chapter 7

****Holy guacamole! This chapter took me a very long time to write. This is a BRAND NEW CHAPTER! So for anyone who read my original chapters 1-11, this is technically chapter 6.5. Well, I mean now it's chapter 7, but whatever :) **

**I realized that I skipped right over this wonderful holiday, and so I decided to add a Halloween chapter. It gives us some more FourxTris development and its a little tense here. Hope you enjoy!**

**I mention character ages in here, specifically Four. Just remember before you comment on it, this is a modern day story, so I decide his age and birthday. I'm keeping Tris and Four in the same two-year-apart in age. In this chapter it tells of Four being 23. Tris at the present moment is 20. Her birthday will come in the spring time of this story.**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Tris POV - Friday, ****October 31****st**

When Halloween rolls around everyone seems to be in the spirit. Not to mention it's on a Friday this year, and Halloween on Friday the 31st might as well be a Friday the 13th to a lot of people. Normally, people on campus just wear black, witch hats, capes, and masks. There have been a few people who decide to go all out in costume. They always make me smile.

I've always liked Halloween, ever since I was little. It was my favorite holiday for the longest time. But Thanksgiving quickly took over the spot of favorite holiday because the food was magnificent. Mom made the best turkey soup as leftovers and Dad's gravy was to die for.

All those cheesy Halloween movies never really scared me. I could almost always guess who the bad guy was under the mask, and it was really fun trying to guess who was going to die next. Caleb used to get so upset whenever I guessed the ending and turned out to be right. Mom just said I was very observant.

But another thing I loved about Halloween was dressing up and becoming someone I'm not. It was a way for me to express my inner Vampire/Witch/Gypsy/Princess/Pirate at the time. One time I went as batman. My dad thought it was a little weird and Caleb teased me about it, but my mind was set. My mom helped hem the cape for me and fixed my suit in place since it was meant for a boy. I loved having a secret identity. Now, I love it for a completely different reason.

Getting free candy was always a bonus. My dad would go with Caleb and me to different houses. Mom would stay home making caramel apples, baking pumpkin seeds and handing out candy to other children. She always dressed up as the same thing: a modest Marilyn Monroe.

I don't know what happened to the costume after she died. But I try not to think about it too much.

Christina also loves this holiday. She takes every opportunity she can to try out new looks and has an excuse to go shopping. That means I get dragged along with her. We hit up four different stores offering Halloween costumes and decorations. She bought herself a pair of bunny ears, tail and a leotard all in black. Then she grabbed a pair of $2 vampire fangs.

"Vampire bunny?" I asked her with a strange look.

"There's a first time for everything." She smiled right back.

"More like a sexy version of the killer bunny from that Monty Python movie." The pimple faced teenage boy said as he stocked the shelves with face paint and tights. Christina smacked him. I had to suppress a smirk.

I looked through the different costumes and was hoping for something a little more… well, less revealing. Since we wouldn't be dancing on Halloween, we would be at the diner all night. Max was more than okay with us dressing up. My first Halloween there I would have said he was more excited that we were dressing up than we were.

Christina held up multiple costumes for me to try on, but I turned them all down: Slutty Nun, Slutty Pumpkin, Slutty UPS girl, Slutty Alice in Wonderland, Slutty Firefighter.

Then I found it. The last one in my size and it was perfect. A Harry Potter costume. It completely satisfied my inner book nerd. It really looked just like a female school outfit. It came with a white button down under shirt, gray sweater, red and yellow striped tie for Gryffindor House, gray plaid skirt that came to my knees, and then black socks with an accent of red. There was an optional wand and glasses to buy, but no black robe. That's okay with me. I bought the costume with the wand.

Christina rolled her eyes at my choice, but was content that I had picked something with a skirt.

I didn't wear my costume to school, even though Christina said I should. I just wore a tasteful black long sleeved dress, denim jacket and purple scarf to hide my tattoo.

Susan was on the bus this morning as I left for campus. She was wearing her mother's old witch hat and robe. Both Susan and her mother loved Halloween. They held a party every year the weekend before. It included costume contests, bobbing for apples, pumpkin carving, karaoke, and at least one scary movie.

"Morning Susan."

She smiles at me. "Good morning Beatrice."

I haven't seen Susan dress up for Halloween since her mother died. I knew Mrs. Black would wear this exact outfit when she was escorting people in Abnegation. I'm pretty sure Susan doesn't know she wore this to work, and I won't be the one to tell her. I don't want to ruin every memory she has of her mother.

"You're not dressed up?" She asks me casually.

"No. I will be later."

Her eyes harden at me like what I said wasn't funny.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not doing _that_ tonight. I'll wear a costume at the diner."

Her face softens. "Oh. I'm sorry for thinking otherwise."

I wave her off. "Susan you don't need to apologize for every bad thought you have about other people. You'll go crazy."

Rather than argue as any other human being would do. Susan smiled as though it were a compliment. "It's just who I am I suppose. I can't help it."

I only nodded, not really understanding her reasoning for always looking on the bright side of things.

Finally arriving at campus was a different story. There were a lot of girls dressed up in more revealing outfits, many of them Freshman. It was a little disturbing that they'd want to do something like that. Then again, I shouldn't be saying too much on the subject.

Thankfully Professor Thompson's eyes were on every girl in the class today. Lots of them were dressed a little sluttier than normal, especially with the cold windy weather we've been having. He stops at me occasionally, and it's almost as though I see a slight anger in his eyes. Almost as though he's upset I didn't dress up. What'd you expect?

English is a little more interesting. Amar has dressed up as a lumber jack. He says he's the huntsman from Little Red Riding Hood, but we can't really tell the difference.

To many of the girls' disappointment, Four the T.A. is not dressed up. He wears a simple black button down shirt and a dark pair of jeans.

Christina wears her bunny ears, but not the tail nor the leotard to school.

Amar gives extra credit to those who went all out.

We begin to engage in a class discussion about the most horrific Shakespeare story of all, at least according to Amar: Romeo and Juliet. Apparently with dump-truck loads of sarcasm, this is the scariest of stories. Two young kids not controlled by their parents go and have sex. Terrifying. Then they die, moral of the story: don't have sex because you'll die. Then Amar passed out black, orange, and pumpkin flavored condoms as our Halloween treats. Then he showed us a video of a group of kids who redid a version of Romeo and Juliet, but did it horribly and in a frighteningly funny way. Just about everyone in the class laughed until their sides hurt. Christina's laugh was the loudest by far.

I try not to look his way too much, really I do. But I know why all the other girls stare blatantly at him. He is a fine specimen of a man. Obviously built under his clothes, his angular jaw frames his face, and his spare upper lip is nearly invisible compared to his full lower lip. His hair has gotten a little longer since the beginning of the year, and it's starting to curl. I like it. I know I shouldn't. But I like it.

Then his eyes meet mine, and I tear my gaze away. My cheeks burn red.

Thankfully Christina hustles to get out of the classroom, but she wouldn't leave me. I think.

"What's the hurry?" I ask once we're on our way down the stairs and out of the building.

"No hurry. Why would you think that?" Her voice shakes ever so slightly. I narrow my eyes at her, but don't push it. Unlike Chris, I don't need to know everything that goes on in other people's lives.

Her eyes light up and there's more of a spring in her step as we get closer to her building. I feel Christina grip my arm suddenly, but just as quickly, she lets go. She looks nervous, which is odd. Christina is never nervous. Not even for her first dance at Dauntless. She was ready to go and ready to give it all she had. This is new territory for me.

"Beatrice!" Robert's voice finds me from behind.

"And this is where I leave you." Christina say with a smirk on her face. Then she turns and skips into her building. She's way too happy.

"Hey Robert." I say. I haven't seen much of him since the first few days of class. He's dressed like a complete jock.

"Hey!" He wraps me up in a big hug. He's always been friendly. "I don't have much time. Volunteering at a high school track meet." Oh. "Just wanted to wish you happy Halloween and tell you to not get into too much trouble tonight." He hands me a piece of candy and runs off.

I look at the candy in my hand. It's a Twix. My favorite. I look back to Robert's direction, but he's already heading down and around the block.

I don't normally eat candy, but today is the one day I make an exception. Valentine's day candy is okay, but this is the really good stuff. _Because having a pumpkin on the wrapper rather than a heart makes all the difference._

The diner is not crowded when I get there. My costume was dropped off earlier by Christina. Shauna is a fortune teller, Matthew is a pirate (like every year) and David doesn't dress up. He never says much as it is, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't like holidays in general.

I go to the back room and change into my Hogwarts school uniform. I even braid my hair down my back and put the wand down my sock. It seems like a reasonable place for a witch to hide her wand. Can't exactly have a purse for it.

Shauna squeals at my outfit, like she always does. She's called me the grim Barbie before. Lynn would add "boobless" to the title. She's also excited because she can never get me to dress up usually. She and Christina both share this frustration. Halloween I make an exception.

I wrap my apron around my waist and set to work. The lights are dimmed in here and spooky music is playing over the speakers. Around 8pm the fog machine will turn on outside the front door and candles will be lit in the windows.

"There's a group coming in at six tonight."

"To do what?" I ask Shauna.

"Kids pumpkin carving." She smiles.

"Really? That sounds like something they'd do at Amity."

She nods. "I know. But we're having one here. I get to supervise." She smiles bringing food to a table. Supervising a bunch of sugar-high kids? No thanks. I'll happily leave that to Shauna. She's the one who loves kids anyway. Lynn mentioned that Shauna has been having a baby-crazy mind recently, I hope she's being careful with whatever is going on with Zeke.

Edward comes in an hour later and orders his usual. He's surprisingly calm tonight as far as the grabbing and sexual innuendos go. Maybe he's found another girl with which to lay on his attitude. Secretly I hope so. Unfortunately I have to give him a discount on his meal since he's dressed up; Max's policy. He mentions with a sly smile that he's an escaped convict looking for trouble. He wears an orange jump suit and hasn't shaved recently so he could pull it off. But then he leaves without any real antagonizing. Even Christina gives him a weird look when he leaves.

So far, it looks like my day has been pretty lucky.

Then the dinner rush happened. It was absolutely insane. The group of kids that arrived for Halloween activities was wild and out of control. Shauna looked like she was about to start pulling her hair out. Then their parent's started to send out warnings to the kids and they quieted down. The diner was packed even without the kid party. A line of ten groups waiting for a seat by the door and every table and bar stool was full. Harrison was on guard tonight and was considering calling Molly, but Cara stopped him and reminded him that Molly hated kids. She'd through a fit.

Lynn went around and helped light the candles in the window and Matthew dimmed the diner lights even more. Spooky music played and the fog machine was turned on outside.

As it starts quieting down, the group of kids leaving helped a lot, everyone had a seat and we were allowed to take a short break. Christina collapsed in the locker room and was snoring instantly. Shauna and Lynn were sitting at the counter, and Cara was sitting down by the register at the front of the building fanning herself with a menu.

I sat in one of the back booths sipping on a water and doing some homework.

The front door opened and two men walked in. Both in black, one dressed up. My heart beat sped up at the sight of the second one.

"Shauna. I vant to suck your blood!" The shorter of the two walked over to Shauna and poked her sides. She squeaked in alarm and turned around slapping him in the face. Then she got all embarrassed and obviously felt horrible when she realized it was Zeke. Vampire Zeke.

Soon they were laughing as Lynn gave them some space. I glanced over at Harrison worriedly, but to my surprise, he was smiling at them, got up and left the room. Maybe he's not so bad after all.

Christina is awake just moments later and out serving Zeke like she wasn't just asleep. She made some comment that embarrassed Shauna because soon Shauna punched her in the arm. We call it her "inner-Lynn" which only comes out in times like this. Zeke just laughed and threw an arm around her shoulders. Christina whined, but not in way that made others think she was just asking for attention. Shauna doesn't get violent often, but when she does, it hurts.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Lynn asked looking over at Four. He was wearing black jeans, and a black long sleeved shirt that made his chest muscles stand out like crazy. I had to try really hard not to look too long.

"Nothing." He said almost sounding annoyed.

"Shocker." She replied quietly. He didn't even acknowledge her.

"He's not here for Halloween." Zeke says happily. "He's here for birthday cake!"

Shauna looks over at Four quickly. "It's your birthday?"

"No." He says, looking like he would be anywhere else besides here.

"It was yesterday, little man turned 23!" He smiles brightly. Four looks annoyed.

"Who you calling _little_ Zeke? Four is older and taller than you." Shauna laughs.

Zeke straightens out. "One, he's only older than me by three months. Two, he's less than half a foot taller than me… so I can't really argue… I don't really know where I was going with that." He looks confused up at the ceiling as though it held the answers. Shauna laughed and Cara chuckled.

"Zeke, you just need some cake. You'll feel better." Shauna says almost lovingly and sits him and Four down at the counter.

He smiles. "Absolutely. It's not Halloween looking cake today though right?"

"What do you mean?" Lynn asks from behind the counter. "Halloween cake?"

"Like orange and black frosting, pumpkins, witches and stuff on the cake." He says using his hands to help shape the invisible cake he's talking about. Four grunts.

"No, just regular cake. Chocolate or vanilla?" Shauna asks.

"Chocolate for sure!" Then he leans in close to her, and nods towards Four. "He doesn't like Halloween that much." Zeke offers.

"You don't like Halloween?" I find my voice rising in question. Everyone looks over at me. Four looks surprised.

"No." He says, his eyes holding mine.

"Why not?" I challenge. "You get to dress up and be something you're not for a day."

He doesn't answer me this time. He just holds my gaze, hard and almost sorrowful. Zeke quickly changes the subject which makes me think he knows why Four isn't answering me.

I get up from the booth as Zeke goes on talking about classes and absurd homework given out over this weekend.

Matthew is waiting in the kitchen with two slices of cake ready in each hand.

"Does he want a candle?" He teases.

I smirk. "I don't think he's a candle kind of guy."

Zeke smiles at me when I bring out the cake and dives into his when I set his down. Shauna laughs and tells him to slow down before he chokes.

"Have you ever stolen something?" I hear Christina ask.

Four glares at her. "No. Why?"

"You could be a burglar?" She offers a little quieter.

He grunts and continues to scowl. What is his deal?

"You don't have to be such a dick you know." I say standing in front of him, holding his cake in my hand. Everyone looks at me and seems to all take a step back at the glare fest going on between the two of us.

"Why I am the way I am is none of your business."

"You're right. It's not. But when you take your attitude problems out on my friends, don't expect me to stand by and watch you get away with being a jerk." I snap.

He doesn't break my gaze, which is intimidating, thrilling, and terrifying all at the same time. I can feel my blood heating up, for more than just being angry with him. Angry with myself, confused, and a little turned on if I admit it. _Which I won't._

Shauna clears her throat, and Zeke looks at me with a small frown, like a puppy frown. I look back at Four and see he has hung his head now. His hair looks soft. _Stop looking at it._

I take a deep breath and will myself to calm down. "You could be a shadow." I offer as I set his slice of cake down in front of him.

"A what?" His brow furrows in confusion.

"A shadow. You're dressed in all black. It's something rather than nothing." I take a step back. "Happy birthday by the way."

Before he can answer I turn and walk back to the kitchen.

About an hour later, Zeke and Four are about to leave, as group of three guys come in clearly drunk. One is dressed as a police officer, another is a surfer dude, and the third is a banana. They sit down at a booth and I go to take their order.

"You're like the chick from the Harry Potter stuff." The surfer slurs.

"Nah she had brown hair." The banana offers. "Curly too."

"Wasn't there a blonde though?"

"She was crazy hot!"

"Crazy weird too."

The police officer finally says something. He's not as drunk as the other two. "I don't think you're that bad looking. Pretty. Hot even if you'd let your hair free. I bet it's soft."

"My suit is soft." The banana feels his costume with a look on his face as though he just discovered the universe, and starts laughing.

The police officer doesn't look at his friend. Just at me.

"What can I get for you?" I ask politely.

"Three coffees, black for me." The police officer says. Banana wants crème and surfer wants two sugars.

"Be right out." I say to them and walk back to the kitchen.

Christina is smiling at me. "You've got an admirer Tris." She nods towards the table. I don't turn around. "He's cute. Just saying."

"He's also drunk."

"Not that drunk." She says.

I can sense eyes on me as I walk to and back from the kitchen with their coffees. But it's not just the police man looking at me. Zeke and Shauna are whispering to each other while their eyes steel quick glances at me.

"Here are your coffees." I set them down on the table. The banana now looks like he's ready to pass out.

"Do you have a wand with that outfit?" The surfer asks.

I put my hands on my hips. "Yes." Not exactly sure where this was going.

The policeman smirks. "Want to see my wand?" The surfer barks out laughing. I can feel my cheeks turning slightly red. "Better yet, mind if I Slytherin to your bed?"

I can hear Zeke snort with laughter and murmur to Shauna, "I like this guy."

I'm not really in the mood to play along. "What's your name officer?"

His smile widens. His aviators lift slightly as his nose crinkles. "Anthony Harkin, and yours?"

I forgot for a moment that I didn't have my name tag on my costume, and was briefly thankful. "I'm afraid that's privileged information. You don't have a high enough clearance to get that."

"I have handcuffs in my car. They're good for more than just locking people up."

My eyes roll so hard it hurts.

"No thank you." I say as politely as I can. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"You've already put a love spell on me." Anthony says leaning a little closer. "What's the name of the spell?"

I can't contain my snort. "If you knew anything about Harry Potter, you'd know it was a love _potion_, not a _spell. _Now if you'll excuse me." I walk away with a more than normal swing in my hips. Banana is still howling with laughter feeling up his own suit. Surfer is dead in his coffee. Police officer Anthony is quiet.

"Hmm girl you're passing up an opportunity." Christina says watching them behind me.

"You go for it." I offer.

She shrugs. "I would if it weren't for…" Then, her beautiful chocolate skin turns pale.

"Chris?" I ask quietly. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Her voice shakes a little. "Perfect." More even now. She bites her lip hard for a moment as if that's the only thing keeping her from talking.

"If it weren't for what Chris?"

"You're right, they're too drunk." She plays it off easily.

I frown at her. That's not what she was going to say. "That's never stopped you before."

She snaps. "Jesus Tris leave me alone. It's not that big of a deal anyway." Christina pushes past me and goes back to the locker room. No one asks me what it was about.

"Well I think it's time for us to go." Zeke says finally making his way over to the door. "Gotta party to hit up tonight."

"Wish I could go." Shauna says sadly. Zeke's mood changes instantly as he sees her in a non-happy state. Without even thinking about it, he throws his arms around her and hugs her. I was surprised he didn't ask her why she couldn't take the rest of the night off, but maybe Shauna has told him a little about what her life here entails.

Four stands up and walks over to them at his own pace. "No parties for you?" Lynn almost sneers at him as he walks by her.

"No." Is all he says, and then walks out. Zeke follows shortly after.

The banana, surfer, and police officer don't stay after their coffee is gone. Some party and chicks to bang they claim. Officer Anthony winks at me on his way out. I pretend not to notice. Shauna is in a good mood the rest of the night. Christina seems to have forgiven me, or at least she has forgotten that it happened. I know she'll tell me in time. She can't keep much a secret.

I can't decide how I feel about Four. He's handsome, mysterious, and smart. But he's also a dick when he's grumpy. Half of me wants him to take his shirt off and be a fucking dancer for Halloween, but the other half wants to punch him in the neck.

Boys are stupid.

****Please Review!****


	8. Chapter 8

****Hello there everyone! So this has got to be the longest chapter I've written for this story so far! AAHHH excitement! Anyway, I won't take up too much of your time here, except that to say that I forgot a disclaimer! Bad me!**

**Oh well, here it is: Disclaimer – I do not and will never own the original characters or plot line of the Divergent Trilogy.**

**There we go, not so bad.**

**More texting in this chapter, and remember, when characters are texting, _bold italics_ are the person in this POV, and plain **_italics_** are the person they're talking to. So in this case, Tris is _bold italics._**

**And there seems to be a mutual murderous feeling about Professor Thompson… ooohhh I smell DRAMA! Poor Tris, her life is so complicated. And it will get even more so! Huge hint of drama at the end of this chapter! Hahaha love it! And thank you everyone for the reviews! I love you all for taking the time to read my story!**

**By the way, have you seen the Insurgent trailer? OMG I was hyperventilating in the office break room!**

**Enough of me, onto the story!**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Tris POV - Friday, November 14th**

It's Friday. Last day of the week, and the night of the male dancers. It'll be interesting to hear the stories on Saturday. Eric usually has one girl come in to help bar tend or work backstage with Peter on these once a month occasions. I've never been called in, but Christina has. Actually she was called in the last time they were at Dauntless on October 17th. Tori before her on September 19th. Christina says she has conflicting emotions about it; on one hand it's great to see the male dancers, but on the other, she has to work and help with whatever Peter says. Sounds fabulous.

It's nearing winter, but my room feels like it's on fire. Or maybe it's just me.

I'm plagued by nightmare after nightmare no matter how much I try to knock myself into an unconscious state. I need sleep. Just one good night sleep without all of the problems in my life getting in and taking control. Max. Eric. Edward. Now Professor Thompson. Everything is going to shit. Then there's my T.A. from Shakespeare. God that T.A. It's like he takes pleasure in watching me when he thinks I'm not looking. I honestly can't tell anymore if it's because he knows me from Dauntless or not. I've never seen him there before so I would hope he doesn't know me as my alter ego, but who can say what is real anymore?

I know Christina has had her eye on me more recently, and not just in the _best friend_ kind of way, but more of the _I know there's something you're not telling me_ way. For the most part she's stayed silent.

My bed creaks as I sit up and swing my legs over the edge. The bright red numbers on my alarm clock read 8:21am. I don't need to get up for another two hours really. Having gone to bed at 3:30am I could use the sleep. My body and my mind just aren't agreeing with one another. I'll just end up sucking down another one of those horrible tasting energy drinks that the lead manager of Erudite invented in her spare time.

Jeanine Mathews. The wicked witch in the good fairy's clothing. All of Max's clubs have the lead manger, like Eric is for Dauntless. In Amity, they have a woman named Johanna Reyes, though I'm pretty sure she doesn't realize what exactly the other clubs participate in. In Candor, it's a guy named Jack Kang. I don't know much about him, but I've heard that he dropped out of law school to be a male dancer for Max, and then ended up running a club himself cause he and Max became such good friends. Abnegation is led by a guy named Marc Easton. Get this, he's apparently a government worker as well. Only, no one knows this kind of business he's in. No one really knows who leads the Gutter. The whole place is a stinking secret. Literally.

Jeanine on one hand, seems like a nice woman. She's smart and knows how to keep her agenda hidden. But in the end, she'll be ready to strip you of everything you are.

I decide to get up and get ready since I know I won't be able to go back to sleep. Dressing in a simple dark red short sleeved shirt, black jeans and a dark gray jacket I head out the door and go to the library, killing a few hours before class begins. How am I going to look Professor Thompson in the eyes now?

The bell in the clock tour rings when it's time for class. With a heavy breath and a lump in my stomach, I begin the day.

I enter my Contemporary Editing class with my head down, as I've been doing for the last few weeks. Only this time it's different. Ever since Professor Thompson realized who I was, I've been worried about him. But I didn't used to show it. Before, I would hold my head up high, participate, and act like nothing was wrong. He had gotten a little handsy after class more than a few times now. I fear he will begin to show up at Dauntless more. After last night's private dance, he only ever stayed in the crowd, never even came up to the stage to shove money into my skimpy outfits. Just watched me from his seat, a satisfied smirk on his face. It made my skin crawl.

Christina cornered me after our class together with Amar two weeks in and forced me to tell her the extent of what is going on. I can't wait until she finds out I'm hiding the fact that he bought a private dance from me last night.

"_Tris Prior you had better tell me what is going on with you or so help me I will force you to attend a debate with me."_

_I roll my eyes slightly. Christina used to be a communications major and therefore loved to attend debates on campus, she was good at it too. But she eventually chose language overall. Debates seemed too proper for her now. _

"_It's nothing Chris really." I try to brush her off but she was having none of it. _

"_I don't get you sometimes. You say you're fine or everything is okay or nothing is bothering you, when clearly the opposite is true. You're like a hormonal teenager insisting that everything is okay when it's not. You can't lie to me Tris, and I've been letting you _think_ that you've been getting away with lying to me which is so not the truth." Her face softens a bit. "Please, I want to help you. Whatever is going on in that blonde head of yours, you can tell me. I know when to keep certain things secret."_

"_I can take care of myself so I don't want you to worry." I say calmly as we begin to walk through the plaza outside of the building. She looks like she's about to protest but I cut her off. "However, I will tell you, but you can't repeat it to anyone."_

_She nods quickly. "Cross my heart, and hope to… well I don't really want to die. Cross my heart and hope to be reassigned to the Gutter." She jokes._

_It earns a small laugh out of me. Everyone who works for Max knows that the Gutter is a terrible place to work. Some say it's worse than death, but I have to disagree with them. I don't welcome the idea of death or invite it into my life, but ever since my parents died I've accepted the idea that it's a part of living. It's going to happen to everyone, some sooner than later. Max wouldn't kill us for trying to leave, he'd get one of his goons, some bigger and meaner than Eric, to beat us, get us addicted to coke, and pimp us out or beat us and toss us in the Gutter. No one talks about the side pimp business because no one even wants to think about it. There have been girls though who simply disappear. No one knows where they go, but they are never seen from again. They're the ones with the horrible attitude, try to run away or attempt something crazy while in Max's employment. _

"_It's my Editing Professor again."_

_Her eyes go wide. "He knows you work at Dauntless. You told me on the first day, but you never did get to tell me the details. Spill it now." She puts her hands on her hips and her expression becomes stern._

_I feel like a small child caught with a hand halfway in the cookie jar. "He's gotten a little worse."_

"_Little?" She cocks an eyebrow._

"_Okay more than a little. He's handsy and likes to meet me after class. Calling me Raven."_

"_He should know the rules."_

_I take a deep breath. "I've been telling him that but he won't listen."_

_She pauses and looks around at our surroundings, making sure no one is listening probably. Then turns back to me. "You have to let someone know."_

"_I can't."_

_She sighs. "I know. Eric would find out and then Max would find out. And we don't want _that_ happening." _

"_Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing." I offer before I can stop myself._

"_What do you mean? If Eric or Max find out that you've been 'hanging out' with a member of Dauntless while off site and for free, Tris you could be in a lot of trouble."_

"_But then they would know about him and they could kick him out."_

"_And make you change majors so you don't see him anymore."_

_I hate it when she's right, which turns out, is a lot of the time. I shake my head. "Someone was bound to recognize me right? Sooner or later." My voice sounding weaker than I'd like._

_Her arms are thrown around me in an instant. "I'm so sorry Tris. Why didn't you tell me earlier? You could have transferred out!"_

"_I need the class for my major."_

_She gives me a sad look. "We just went over this. You know what's going to happen if it continues don't you?" I know, but I don't say anything. "They're going to find out if your prof continues inappropriate behavior. He could blame you for instigating a relationship between the two of you. They could send you somewhere else, or make you switch majors." _

_I can feel myself deflate at her words. I knew the consequences. I don't want to switch majors. Creative Writing is the equivalent to freedom, plus it keeps me out of Erudite. I'm not nice enough for Amity's Family Center, imagine the surprise when parents realize they've been taking their kids to a place run by a pimp/drug lord/and who knows what else. There is no way I could go to Candor, I'm not talkative enough for that. I'll probably be sent to Abnegation once I've hit late twenties. An old sports bar where my time is devoted to serving others. _

"_Tris, I know you don't want that. I have a plan."_

Since then, I've been hanging my head low as to show him that he's won. At least for now. I used to hold myself to a higher standard. Making myself purposely look weak makes me feel weak too. I don't like showing defeat. But since I have been, he has paid less attention to me. Though he still smiles at me. Like he is right now as I take my seat.

At least I thought my strategy was working until last night.

Maybe that's why I'm so popular at Dauntless. Not for my lack of a woman's body, but because of the way I hold myself. A burning fire is attractive. A dull flame in the coals is not.

The top I wore today I realized shows my raven tattoos. Since that is one of the markers that identify me, I thankfully found a black scarf in the bottom of my bag and wrapped it around my neck so that it drapes down into my collar bone.

Everyone piles into the class slowly. The few boys that were in this class dropped out within the first two weeks. It's obvious that Professor Thompson is more modeled to teach those of the female gender. I hate his personality. The other girls seem drawn to him. Sure he's good looking, but I've seen a lot of good looking guys from my job. Been hit on by them too, and it never caused me to bat an eye.

The back of my mind nags me about the T.A. in my Shakespeare class. Yes he's attractive, but I can't do that. He even smiled at me last class period. It was just for an in depth answer I gave in front of the whole class. Amar was impressed, and then the T.A., Four, smiled. It didn't leave my head the entire night, even when I was at the Pit, and it followed me into my dreams. He hardly ever smiles.

I try to control the fluttering in my heart and the heat in my cheeks when he crosses my mind, but it's like trying to breathe under water. It can't be done. Wondering ever so carefully what he looks like on a weekend, or what his voice sounds like after just waking up. Would it be deep, husky, both? Does he work out? Are his eyes really as blue as they look up close? Is he seeing anyone?

"Beatrice." Everyone's eyes are on me. Professor Thompson is staring at me with mock concern. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need to step out?" My face is hot, it must be really red.

"I need some air. Sorry." I grab my stuff and squeeze in between seats in order to get to the door. With one last look over my shoulder to the class, I see everyone's eyes are still on me, and Professor Thompson is smiling in a not so kind way. A shiver runs down my spine and I press myself onwards through the door.

I go to the bathroom down the hall and splash some water on my face. My reflection shows a red face, like I've been running. Heating up this much at the thought of a guy is bad news. I can't allow myself to do that again.

The door opens and a girl with long dark hair and pale skin walks in. She's from my class.

"You okay?" She asks in a way that is timid, and at the same time assertive.

"Just a little under the weather." I say splashing some more water on my face to prove a point. "Why?"

"Professor Thompson wanted someone to come check on you."

I shudder. "Did he say why?"

She folds her arms across her chest. "No, but he sounded worried." Then she leans in closer. "Are you sleeping with him?"

I turn around quickly and stare at her. "What?! God no!"

She sighs a little. "I thought that, but there's a rumor going around that you two are… well, you know."

A groan escapes me. "No I'm not sleeping with Professor Thompson. Honestly, I can't stand him. He's creepy and stares at me and I hate it."

She smiles a little. "Welcome to the club." That's when I recognize her fully. She's the girl he made a comment about on the first day about looking good in yoga pants. "He's a total creep. And most of the girls in the class don't think you're actually sleeping with him, it's just a rumor. Best to ignore them." Then her eyes stare at me intently. "Do you know why he's centered his focus on you?"

I can't tell her I'm a dancer at the dirtiest club in town. "He knows me out of class. Well, he doesn't know me, but he's seen me out of class, and it wasn't my best moment." The truth I suppose, but I could add a few false details to make it seem more real. "I was out with a few friends at the beginning of the year and we got a little smashed. He saw me making out with guys in a bar at random wearing slightly skimpy outfit." Bullshit. "And has been watching me ever since."

"Ouch." She looks a little disgusted, but not at me directly, I think.

"Yeah. But I can't transfer out since this is my major."

She nods. "I get that. Are you English Literature, or Creative Writing?"

"Creative Writing."

She looks a little saddened. "Oh, I'm English Lit. It would have been nice to know someone early on in the major."

I can see where she's coming from. "Sorry."

"Not a problem." Then she releases a deep breath and smiles, rocking on her heels slightly. "Well, I had better get back to class. Thanks for clearing it up for me."

"No problem. And if he asks, tell him I won't be coming back to class today. In fact if you could, tell him I threw up."

"Sure thing. By the way, my name's Myra." She holds out her hand.

"Beatrice, but you can call me Tris." I shake it.

Her smile widens, and her hazel eyes sparkle. "Nice to officially meet you Tris. I like your tattoo by the way."

I pale a little, and look down at my collar bone. The scarf has shifted a bit, revealing one of my ravens.

She laughs at my expression. "Don't worry, it's not a crime to have a tattoo. It's a cute bird. What is it?"

_Bird._ She only sees one of them. That's better than seeing all three I suppose. "It's a raven. For my brother. He moved away and I haven't seen him for a really long time. This way he's always close to my heart."

Myra must love sentimental stories like this because she looks like she's going to swoon. "That's so sweet. I have a tattoo too, but it's not for a family member." She frowns. "Actually, I'm planning on either getting it removed or altered to say something else."

"It says something? A name?"

"An ex-boyfriend."

"Myra." I groan sarcastically.

She laughs. "I was sixteen and in love with my first boyfriend, thinking we would be together forever kind of shit."

"I got mine when I was sixteen too." I smile at her. I could see Myra and I being friends. She's soft and sweet, without being unbearably happy all the time. She reminds me a little of Christina, but she's not as assertive as Christina. She's shy like me.

"Want to sit together next class period?" She asks smiling.

"Yes. I would like that very much."

She giggles a little then looks at the clock on the wall. "Oh I had better get back now."

"This just helps the story that I threw up. You walked in on me and helped me get cleaned up."

"Definitely." Then she walks out of the door. Leaving me, once again alone.

I make it to Shakespeare early today because of this incident. Although my phone has already beeped twice with new emails. Probably from Professor Thompson. He's been doing that a lot lately. Probably asking me to come to his office after class or asking me how I'm doing, if I need more time on the assignment and such.

There's only a few people in the classroom when I walk in. Amar looks pleasantly surprised to see me as one of the first ones.

"You're here early." He says as I walk by him to my seat.

"Class got out early." I say as casually as I can.

"Connor didn't keep you behind to talk?"

My steps falter a bit, but I brush it off quickly and compose myself. "No." It's a quick and sharp answer.

Amar nods and looks back at his work. To anyone else he would look like he's focusing on his work, but he's been staring at the same paper he was when I walked in. He's thinking to himself. About my quick answer. I send up a silent prayer that he doesn't go snooping or asking around. Or worse, he sends Four to go snooping.

Speak of the number boy, Four walks in shortly after I sit down. And stops in his tracks when he looks over in my direction. But much like myself, he quickly fixes his steps and pretends as though it never happened. Anything to avoid looking weak.

We don't make much eye contact through class and I'm grateful for it. I don't want anyone else's eyes on me today.

There is one moment though, when Amar is talking about the play _As You Like It_, wondering the simple question of how did Orlando not know that the young man he met in the woods, Ganymede was Rosalind? Someone answered as a joke, "Because women are so good at keeping secrets!" Everyone laughed, everyone but me.

That's when our eyes meet once more. I glanced up at him to see him smirking at the comment, but he must sense I'm looking at him. His deep ocean eyes connect with my stormy sky eyes, and his expression becomes serious, but concerned. I try hard to look away as best I can, but it's like my subconscious wants to alert him to the fact that I have secrets. Don't come near me.

Amar says something else and the class laughs once again. That's when I realize he was making fun of Four for one reason or another.

Everyone looks at Four then and laughs about something. He looks at Amar but with a smile on his face. A small one, but a smile. It's a nice smile.

Everything seems normal again after class. I felt my phone go off a few more times indicating more emails but I ignore them. I'm supposed to be sick.

I notice Christina is acting distracted as she walks out of class, but it's a happy distraction.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask her.

"Nothing." She smirks.

"Liar."

"Yup."

I smile at her.

"What, no more questions?" She nudges my shoulder.

"You'll tell me eventually."

She laughs. "That's true." Her arm links in mine as we walk through campus, where I can walk down to the Pit, and she can go to her last class.

We separate at the building and say our goodbyes for now.

Something catches my eye though as she's walking in. Through the ground floor glass walls, I can make out a boy, just a few inches taller than her with sandy blonde hair is waiting for her. He takes her hand and she willingly goes with him deeper into the building.

Oh Christina.

I try not to worry about it too much on my way to the Pit. Christina knows the rules. She wouldn't risk it. Hell, she was on Shauna not that long ago for staring too long at a guy who resembled Zeke who came in for cake. I'm not one to pry into other people's lives usually, but when it's these kinds of consequences we're dealing with, I need to protect my own.

Maybe that's how a mother feels.

A sickening thought enters my mind.

When I called my parents that night, I was scared. I sounded scared on the phone. My mother on the other end was calm about everything. Telling me that they would be there as soon as they could. That she was coming for me. She was trying to protect me, and she died trying.

My chest feels heavy, and I release a shaky breath. That's when I feel my phone buzz.

_Hey Bea howz school?_

Robert.

_**Fine. Bit of a slow period, but I'm managing.**_

_Bea, ur like the only girl I no who txts complete senetnces._

_**Sorry?**_

_Nah don't b. It's a nice change._

_**How's the roommate situation?**_

_Prtty cool actually! G is a gr8 guy! Gay, but gr8. We goin' 2 some crazy club tonite. _

_**G?**_

_George. His name is George, but goez by G._

_**Goez? Seriously Rob it's not that hard to hit the "s".**_

_Bad habit _

I smile down at my phone.

_**So what club are you going to?**_

_No idea, but G says tonite is the best nite 2 go._

_**Well I hope you have fun. I have to go, work and all.**_

_Count on it!_

_**And be safe.**_

_Bea… this is me we talkin bout. I'm always safe ;)_

I can't help but roll my eyes. Robert sounds so different over text, it's like his alter ego is a wannabe gangster the way he talks. Though I'd never say that to his face. He would probably take offense to it. But I'm glad things worked out well for him and his roommate. Now I know for certain that Tori's brother is his roommate George. Only, I can't mention that I know Tori because that would be breaking the code of the angels.

The Pit is relatively slow tonight, which is odd for Friday nights.

Christina shows up two minutes after her shift started. Harrison gave her the stink eye. I chose not to say anything about her little hand holding situation with the blonde guy because I would honestly rather not get into it right now. Maybe tomorrow after we've been able to sleep in.

"Tris." Matthew comes out from behind the counter just as I'm heading back. He has his phone in hand. Well, not his phone, but the phone Max gave him.

"Yeah?" I ask, wiping my hands on my apron.

He looks out at the audience of customers and then says in a hushed tone. "It's not the kind of thing to discuss here."

I nod, understanding what he means. We both walk back behind the counter, but he takes it further and doesn't stop until we're safe in the locker room. Even then, he doesn't really look at me, just the phone in his hand.

"Matt? What's up?"

"Eric is calling you in."

Oh. "Really?" I don't know how I should react to this. I won't be dancing so it might not be that bad.

"Yeah. He wants you there in an hour to help Peter set up." Matthew shivers at the Peter's name. He hates Peter. He might even hate Peter more than we do, which is a lot. The long term conflict that may never be resolved between Matthew and Peter, is that Peter got Matthew's cousin into our little angel's group. Her name is Monica, and she's currently an escort in Erudite. I remember her. She came to Dauntless just a few months after I started, like all new dancers to see where they'll best fit in. In the end, it was Erudite. I think he was slightly grateful for that, but he could never forgive Peter for it.

Matthew tried to talk her out of it as best he could because he knew firsthand what it was like, seeing as he used to also be one of the male dancers. He was the most popular among the Erudite guests when he was working, but ended up with a ligament tear during one of the performances. He made a deal then not to dance anymore, and instead work here in the diner. But Monica wouldn't listen to him, because she was _in love_ with Peter and trusted him. How silly of a decision that was.

"I'll be there." I say to him as confidently as I can.

He gives me a weak smile and redials a number on the phone. Eric I assume, letting him know I'm coming. Not like I have a choice in the matter.

All the girls in the diner know what happened with Matt and me in the locker room when they see me packing up. Christina gives me a weak smile. It's only once a month, and odds are I won't get called in for another two years. Shauna gives me a little hug on my way out. She's always been the gentlest, but she's even more so now that she has a love interest. Lynn gave me her best sympathetic look, though I know she isn't all that sorry.

I catch one of the last late night buses towards the center of the city. Towards Dauntless. There's already a hoard of screaming women outside. A few men too.

I walk around back. Gunner, one of the security members tries to stop me. None of us like Gunner, though he's easily frightened. For a guard anyway. About a year ago, he made a move on Cara, and she's too shy and too sweet to be in this business so she didn't do that much to push him away. It escalated and if Lynn and Shauna hadn't been walking by, she could have been raped. She was traumatized for sure, and that was the last Gunner ever saw inside our changing station. At first, he thinks I'm a fan, but recognizes me and realizes his mistake when I give him one of my signature glares. Lynn once commented that I had a chronic bitch face. Gunner backed off and gave me room to walk towards the back door. Somewhere, I knew someone watching the security footage was smiling.

It's a mad house back stage. There are probably ten guys back here getting ready. One of them is using my station. I have to do a double take because he looks like Zeke at first.

"Harley! Come on man over here!" Some voice behind me calls to some other guy. Harley? I never actually thought about what names would be given out to male strippers.

"Who are you and where have you been all my life?" A sly voice says from behind me. I turn and come eye to eye with a man about my age, his blonde hair is spiked up his head and he wears thick black eye liner to hide his green eyes. He's shirtless, except for a pair of studded suspenders.

"Leave her be Spike."

I turn back to the young man sitting at my station. I swear he looks nearly identical to Zeke, and yet, he's taller with shorter hair, and narrower eyes.

"She's not hyperventilating so she's obviously back here for a reason."

"I thought Spike was a dog's name." I say smiling innocently at the blonde.

A wider smile appears on his face. "What's yours?"

"I'll give you a hint. Your friend," I motion to the one behind me. "Is sitting at my station."

His eyes widen slightly and he instantly takes a step back.

"Raven!" Peter shouts my name. "Where are you?!"

"Hide before the minion comes." The one behind me states.

I shrug. "Can't. I've been called in to help him back stage."

They both give me a sympathetic look. "Sorry about that honey." Spike says mockingly, but in good fun.

"Don't call me honey." I glare at him.

He laughs and walks off towards some other guys. "Sorry about him. He's usually not like that. It's just his,"

"Alter ego?" I answer turning back to the one at my station. "I get it."

"I'm Snake. Here anyway." He offers me his hand.

"Raven."

"I would tell you my real name but, you'll understand why I don't." I nod. "So you're they're number one dancer? I don't mean to be rude, but you don't really look it." I can't help but laugh. He gives me a strange look. I take a moment to take in this, Snake. Short cropped black hair and a creamy chocolate skin color, minimal eye liner, but he's wearing tinted chapstick. Anyone in this profession could tell. He wears an obnoxiously short pair of red shorts with scales no doubt. No shirt, except for a matching red and silver tie around his neck. Then a pair of white tube socks in black combat boots.

"Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm number one either. I've asked Eric and he just said because I'm memorable."

Snake gives me another look.

"I normally wear a lot more makeup than this and a black wig. Plus," I pull down the edge of my dark red short sleeved shirt, revealing my raven tattoos. "These show."

He looks at them in an admiring way. "That's really cool! I have a tattoo myself. It's actually how I got my name."

"You sure it's not just some sexual innuendo?" I ask sarcastically making a bold eye motion to his private area. Normally this would make me blush just at the thought of doing it, but here, I'm someone else.

He laughs, deep and hearty. It's contagious. "No, I had this before I started." He turns his head to reveal a small snake tattoo behind his right ear.

"Me too."

"Raven!" Peter's voice calls out again.

"That's my cue." I say backing up towards the rafter staircase.

"Go help the little weasel. And try not to get on his bad side."

"Peter has a bad side?" I ask, sarcasm dripping from my mouth. He laughs again. And I wave him off. "I've been doing this too long to know better."

I hear it under his breath, and though I don't think it was meant for me to hear, it still makes me shiver. "Haven't we all?"

Peter is waiting in the prop area just below the rafters. "Where have you been?" He practically yells waving his clipboard around, almost hitting me in the head.

"I got caught up in the crowd. Gunner thought I was a fan trying to get in." I know this will probably screw Gunner over, but after the incident with Cara, I don't care.

He swears under his breath and then shoves a box full of things in my arms. "Go and set these up." I shrug, happy to be out of his presence. Wasn't it just last night he smiled at me like we were actual friends rather than coworkers at a club? This guy has mood swings like a preteen girl.

After everything is set up and the music is about to start, I take a look out at the crowd. It's mostly chatty women at the tables and on the floor. Some men in the back, even less who actually look excited.

The music begins, and the first few guys take their places. The screaming is worse than when us girls dance. It's higher pitched and full of emotion. I don't know how these guys don't get headaches from the squeals.

Some kind of commotion takes place in the back of the room. Just two guys talking it looks like. They move like magnets, pushing and pulling. One looks desperate to get away from here, and the other looks angry and wants to stay. It's only when one of the spotlights shines over the crowd momentarily and catches the one trying to get away. Just for a brief second, I see him.

My face turns red and my heart beat speeds up. I want to scream. What is he doing here?! I have enough complications in my life already. At least I can send a silent prayer up to whatever higher power there is that I'm not dancing tonight.

His black leather jacket gets caught in the light again as the other man has somehow convinced him to stay a bit longer. And though he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than here, I can see the curiosity behind his eyes. Eyes that have haunted me even if I won't admit to it.

Four, what are you doing here?

****And there is chapter 8 for you ladies and gents! Next chapter should be up same time next week! Please review!****


	9. Chapter 9

****OVER 100 REVIEWS! WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?! You guys rock! Seriously! I've never had so many reviews before! Oh my god! Plus over 1.3k views on the story since I last updated? You guys spoil me! And another super long chapter for you guys and gals! Lucky lucky you :)**

**Sorry for the major cliff hanger in the last chapter, it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up!**

**I hope all of you had a fabulous holiday (whatever it is you celebrate, or don't celebrate) and happy new year! 2015, what?! No way is this possible. It was just the beginning of 2014 not that long ago? Am I right? Sigh… time just goes by so freakin fast as we get older. It's going to be a good year I hope! I mean, happy stuff, my little sister graduates high school this year, I will turn 20 this year (so old) and I get to officially declare my major at my university! AAHAHAHA so excited. If you haven't already guessed, it's Creative Writing. Though I am considering a double major now, adding on Business Admin to my plate. We'll see.**

**Special update too, this is in Four's POV! AND IT'S SO LONG! Don't get used to Four's POV being this long, but I just couldn't stop with this one! HEHE more exciting stuff revealed at the end of this chapter. You get dancing, Zeke flirting, Four flushing, and of course, thoughts of Tris invading the mind of our very own number boy!**

**Here we go!**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Four POV - Friday, November 14th**

I see her in the classroom, and see her in the diner moving effortlessly through the tables. I see her raise her hand or speak up to answer a question, and see her stepping in to the conversation between Shauna and Zeke. Why did she do that? Shauna could have answered for herself, but she seemed unsure before Tris stepped in. I see her interrupted or her idea – which is usually right – shot down by another classmate, and I see that guy from the diner grip her arm to hold her back. Reminding myself that they're supposed to discuss in class so I won't go over and tell the guy off. Holding myself back from intervening because I know she can handle her own. I see a flame in her blue-gray eyes that reminds me of sitting by a fire while watching a winter snow storm whirl around outside.

I feel drawn to this girl, but I know I shouldn't. I don't understand how I find myself incapable of taking my eyes off of her. How my heart beats fast just at the mention of her. She enters my dreams more and more. I used to never dream. Only nightmares. Her blonde hair that flows down her back, or bounces when she walks when it's in a ponytail. She wears hardly any makeup, and she's stunning. She's shy, and I want to know more.

The girl who spoke out about my name on the first day, Christina, has been hugging closer to Tris as the days press on. Slowly turning to weeks. I want to know why. I want to know why the fire in her eyes is slowly dying out. I want to know why she walks with her head down most days now, never meeting eye contact, especially with any of the guys. I want to know why she looks skittish but slowly relaxes whenever she walks into this class.

Amar looks a little worried too, when she walks in with a minute to spare before class. She hurries to her seat and continues to take deep breaths like she just had to fight for her life.

Only on occasion does she meet my eyes. I'm not sure I even feel bad or embarrassed when I'm caught staring at her anymore. I just want to know why she looks like a deer in headlights when she _does _look at me.

On the even rarer occasion that Christina catches her looking at me, she delivers a swift elbow to Tris's arm. Her face becomes a rosy red as she glares at Christina who gives her a smug smile in return. I have to keep myself from chuckling at those times.

I shouldn't be paying this much attention to her. But I can't help it.

Zeke on the other hand is having a very hard time shutting up about Shauna. Of course he makes sure to add in Lynn and their brother Hector who I just recently met, but most of the time its all about Shauna. I'm a little surprised to be honest, because Zeke has never really been a one girl kind of guy. There's something different with Shauna to him, and it makes him happy.

I'm happy for him, in the way a best friend should be happy. I'm also jealous. Zeke can be carefree sure, but he seems serious about this girl. I don't have near the guts he has when it comes to girls.

"Four you home?!" Zeke bangs on my door. I finally got all moved in and unpacked in my apartment. A ground floor thankfully.

I open the door for him. He's happy. Overly happy. A small box tucked under his arm.

"I have a riddle for you Four."

"Because I love riddles so much?" I ask sarcastically as I shut the door behind him.

He beams. "Yep!"

"Why are you so happy? Nothing good ever comes when you're this happy."

He smiles wider. "That's part of the riddle." He sets the box down on my small coffee table in the corner by the couch and turns back to me. "If you put lingerie, music, and alcohol together, what do you get?"

Oh great. "Regret?"

He smacks my shoulder. I glare at him. "Girls Four! Dancing, sweaty girls!"

"Joy." He wants to go out again. "Zeke if you bring a stripper here again I swear-"

"Calm your balls dude. I'm not bringing a stripper here." He smirks once again. "Maybe." I finally moved in about two weeks ago, and the second night here, he showed up with a female stripper in an outfit meant for someone with a much smaller body than hers. It was horrifying.

My glare hardens.

"We my friend, have been invited to the one, the only Dauntless night club!"

It grabs my attention, even though I try not to show it. "Night club? Really?" I've heard about Dauntless. It's one of those conversations that guys keep to themselves and other members. No one talks about it out loud in public because of the rumors that surround that place. It's a black-hole for your money and the rumors about the girls are even worse.

"You need to lighten up a bit. This is the best night club in all of Chicago! The best girls, the best music, the best booze. The one you need and invite to by a current member to get in? Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Aren't you also required to pay the dancers like a hundred dollars?"

"Only for a private dance."

I run a hand through my hair. It's getting long again, curling at the base of my neck. I need to cut it soon. "That's money I don't have Zeke. I just want to focus on finishing school in the next two years without piling up debt."

"My treat. Just once, tomorrow night, please?" I look down at my hands. "All you have to do is go once and you're members."

"And you can't go alone?"

"I would, except I need Uriah to think I'm hanging out with you."

I laugh. "You don't want your twenty year old younger brother to know you're going to a strip club? You, of all people. I thought you would be bragging to him."

"I will, as soon as I'm an official member. Besides he's busy tomorrow night, like he is every Friday night. I can't tell him beforehand since he wasn't invited."

"And I was? Or am I just your plus one?"

"No, you were specifically invited with me." Zeke says recalling something. Then he looks a little sheepish.

"Zeke, who invited us?"

He remains quiet, and looks around at anywhere but me.

"Zeke." My tone has become dark. I don't like using it on him. He calls it, my _teacher voice._

Finally he looks at me. "Eric."

My grip on the chair tightens. Eric Matheson. We grew up with that snob of a guy and never got along. He's selfish, cruel and disrespectful towards everyone who can't beat him in a fight. I can, I did. But he hates me because I wouldn't _finish him off._

"It's just one night Four, and it's not like he's going to be there with us. He's backstage remember?" Zeke is near pleading now. Yes I remember when Eric bragged to us about getting a job there as a scheduling manager. Then he got boosted to a head manager of the club. I hear their girls are on the tightest leash.

I roll my eyes slightly. "Zeke it's a strip club, you'll be regretting you went when you're thirty."

He gives me a look that says, _I will be that guy going still at thirty for shits and giggles. You know this._

Sighing, I give in. "Fine, one night. Two hours at most."

Zeke breaks out into another smile. "Thank you Four! Now you can have this." He pushes the box over to me. I open in cautiously. Inside, is an individual sized chocolate cake. Fresh too by the looks of it.

"Zeke, did you steal one of Uriah's cakes in order to convince me into going?"

He smiles wider. "Well, originally it was going to be that. Then I decided I'd just give it to you if you said yes."

"He won't be happy." I smirk at him. Uriah works at a bakery not far from campus, he's the head chef when it comes to cakes. His specialty, chocolate. Every now and then, Uriah gets a cake to take for himself. This must be that cake. With Uriah being like a little brother to me, I can't help but join Zeke in this scheme. "Should we eat it now?"

"Before he finds it yes." I go to grab forks from the kitchen and return to Zeke who has the cake out of the box now. We take our first bite and hum in delight. Zeke's phone goes off then, he looks at the caller ID, smirks, and he answers on speakerphone with a mouthful of cake.

"Hello?"

"Zeke. You had better not be eating what I think you're eating." Uriah.

"What are you talking about lil bro?"

"Mar said you stopped by a little earlier and left with something under your coat."

He laughs. "I wouldn't wear a coat inside, it's too warm. She must be seeing things."

Uriah is silent. "Zeke." His voice dangerously low.

"Yes Uri?" Zeke's voice sweet. I'm trying hard not to choke on my cake laughing.

"Is FUCKING FOUR there?!"

I laugh out loud this time. Zeke does too.

"Sorry Uri, snooze you lose." Zeke sings into the phone. Then hangs up before Uriah can unleash some unkind words at us.

"We are in so much trouble." I say taking another bite.

"I don't even feel bad about it." He smirks. We finish off the cake fairly quickly. Once Zeke told me we could relax and eat it since Uriah doesn't get off work for another hour or so.

We're both reclined in the seats of the couch, some sports game playing on Zeke's phone. I don't have a television.

"I'm going to ask Shauna out." He says suddenly.

I turn to him. "I thought you guys had already gone out." I remember going with him to the store to buy her some earrings. He wanted my opinion because I'm _so_ experienced in this matter. No, he really just didn't want to go alone.

He shrugs. "Technically we have, but only as friends. I want to be more with her Four. She's just this amazing girl who knows everything about me, from my impressively funny nature," I roll my eyes. "To my dashing good looks, my intense love of cake, and my heart for family." My face becomes serious once more. "She knows me, and yet it feels like I know nothing about her. But I want to get to know her. More than anything I've wanted in a while. She's like this magnet that is sucking me towards her, and I'm willing to fall in."

"Poetic."

"Shut up and let me finish." He slaps my arm. "There's definitely something about her that she's not telling me. I don't know what it is, but I want to find out. If there was a major at school called Shauna Studies, I would sign up in a heartbeat. No laughing. I could spend the rest of my life finding out about her and be happy."

The air becomes thick suddenly.

"Did I just…"

I look over at him. "You just admitted, in a way, that you want to spend the rest of your life with a girl." My eyes wide with worry for him. "Are you feeling okay?"

He glares at me. Then his face softens. "I'm not even that freaked out by it."

"There must have been something in that cake Zeke. You're talking serious stuff about a girl. I don't know whether to take you to a doctor, or congratulate you."

"I'm serious."

"I know, and it's scaring me."

He sits up more now. "I'm I going crazy?"

"I don't think so." I smirk then. "As sappy as it sounds, I think you're falling in love."

Zeke looks a little shocked by me saying it out loud. "Never thought that'd happen." Then he turns to me. "What about you?"

"What do you mean what about me?"

"I haven't seen you with a girl in… well I was going to say forever but I can't really think of a girl you've gone on more than a few dates with. What about that one girl, what was her name? Started with an L…"

"Lauren?" I offer, mentally sighing. Lauren was a girl in one of my classes two years ago. Not one that I was a T.A. for, but one that I was a student for. We were partners on a final project, and after a lot of convincing by Zeke, I asked her out after we received our grade. She was a little older than me, but neither of us cared. It was hard to find time to go out though, she was always busy at nights. Sunday's were her only days off. To say that we only went out three times in the whole three weeks we were together isn't true. We went out in the mornings to breakfast occasionally, but she was always tired. And she was always looking over her shoulder like we were being followed. I wanted to ask her about it, but whenever I brought it up she quickly changed the subject. She wanted to move fast when it came to the physical side of the relationship and that was something I just wasn't up for. We split in less than a month. Well, she split it. Said it wasn't working. I didn't complain. I haven't seen her since.

"That's the one. You were with her the longest."

"Three weeks Zeke. That's more of a prescription rotation than a relationship."

He clicks his tongue. "What about that waitress?" This grabs my attention, and he sees it. A smile breaks onto his face once more. "Yeah, that waitress from the Pit. Shauna's friend. Tris."

"Tris." I repeat quietly.

"You so like her." He nudges me, his smile widens. He even waggles his eyebrows a little.

I grunt.

He makes kissing noises and puckers his lips at me.

"You're acting like a five year old." I punch him in the shoulder.

"Uh-uh no way you're changing the subject on me now. Why don't you ask her out? She was pretty, and a little feisty too. Definitely you're type. Plus Shauna said she's single."

"Why did she say that exactly?" I eye him.

"There's a possibility that I asked her about Tris for you."

"Zeke…"

"I said there was a possibility. If you're happy with this knowledge then it was definitely me who asked. If you're not happy however, then it was Uriah."

I run a hand down my face groaning. "No thanks Zeke. Not interested." _I am interested._

His eyes narrow at me. "Liar." _Total liar._

I glare at him. Keeping my feelings guarded is something I've come to master. Even from Zeke when it comes to matters of the heart. I don't like talking about them, sharing them, or even acknowledging them. When I can avoid it, I do.

When I was six, just before my mother died, I had my first childhood crush. A girl, whose name I didn't even know was the first person to really smile at me and try to get to know me. She had dark hair like mine, but darker skin than mine too. Not quite as dark as Zeke, but more of a caramel color. She had soft brown eyes and a gentle voice. She was nice to me, and that touched me somewhere deep in my six year old heart. I later found out her name was Juanita. But she moved away before I could ask her to even hold my hand. I had come home crying when I found out. My mother held me, understanding that my _first love_ had left, and my father, Marcus… well, when my mother left the room he smacked me across the face and told me to grow up. Making some comment that no girl would ever want me. That I was pathetic. That I shouldn't even bother with girls, because they're trouble.

I told Zeke about Juanita when I was young, but never about the part with my father.

He frowns. "I just want to see you happy Four. Everyone deserves happiness."

My expression softens slightly. "Uriah is rubbing off on you."

He punches me in the shoulder again. "Maybe that's a good thing." Then he smiles. "Maybe you'll meet the girl of your dreams tomorrow night at the club."

I laugh to humor him. "Maybe." I'm not looking forward to it honestly, but Zeke would do anything for me, so I can suffer two hours at a night club. Besides, who wants to be known as the one guy in the universe that passed up a strip club?

* * *

The place is completely packed, and don't even bother trying to find a pace to park. I saw one girl get stopped trying to go around back by security. She must have one connection or another because he soon let her by. Other girls tried to follow her lead, but they were stopped instantly.

We have to wear black apparently to get in. So every girl is wearing something black. Up at the head of the line, the bouncer is checking one girl who flashes him a black bra. He smiles at her and lets her and her friends in. I roll my eyes. Zeke and I are both wearing black shirts and black jackets. He wanted to go all out and wear black jeans and shoes. I just stuck with a pair of dark blue jeans.

Zeke couldn't stop smiling the whole time we waited in line to get in. I was honestly a little concerned with how many girls there were in line. I know it's not uncommon for girls to like going to strip clubs, but the ratio of girls to guys was outstanding. I only saw about twenty guys in line while we waited, verses close to a hundred girls.

Up at the front of the door, a tall burly guy in sunglasses stops us like everyone else. I never understood why bouncers felt the need to wear them.

"Names." He says in a quick clipped tone.

"Zeke Pedrad and Four Eaton." Zeke says still smiling as he throws an arm around me.

He eyes us over. "You're new. Who were you invited by?"

"Eric Matheson." Zeke says smiling in a manner that suggests he's up to no good.

The bouncer flinches at Eric's name ever so slightly. But then talks into his cell phone like a radio. He looks at us and waits for a reply. When it comes in, a smirk takes over his face. "Go right on in." I watch the bouncer carefully, as he watches us. Zeke walks in happily and tugs on my arm. I hear the bouncer laughing as we disappear in the doorway.

It's a short hallway with red carpet and black walls. A large mirror on one side stretching the length of the hallway, and a little window to what looks like a coat room on the other. Another man who could easily pass as a bouncer stands behind the counter taking bags and coats and passing out cards for people to be able to pick their stuff back up. It's completely packed with purses and female coats. Something is definitely off.

Zeke passes his coat along and receives a card as well.

"Coat sir." The one behind the counter asks gruffly.

"No thanks." I respond stiffly, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around myself defensively.

He shrugs and smirks lightly. "Suit yourself. But it's hot in there."

"Come on Four." Zeke tugs at my arm like a little kid at a water park. Eager to go down the big slide first. I roll my eyes at him and follow. Once again, I hear the bouncer snicker. I know there's the possibility that I'm paranoid but it all seems to be directed at me. Am I acting strange or something?

At the end of the hallway is a flight of stairs, black stairs with a red light hanging above as the only light source. They spiral down at least two flights. The lower we go, the louder the music becomes. At the base, we can see strobe lights going off. I can tell that Zeke is more excited than he has been in a long time. He just admitted yesterday that he could be in love with Shauna, and now he's anxious to see other females in skimpy clothing that their parents would disapprove of.

The ground beneath us feels almost like rubber, but it's solid for sure. It's black with what looks like flecks of neon paint scattered on the ground, and they glow under a black light that hangs from the ceiling.

There are girls _everywhere_. And not the dancing kind. They sit in tables, booths, up on an upper ring around the floor, and in the middle of the dance floor for guests, but not on the stage.

I tug Zeke backwards to the bar in the back of the room. It seems that most of the guys here have gravitated back here.

"You get dragged here by your girl too?" One of them turns to ask me.

I don't know exactly what to say.

"Four come on! We need to find a seat!" Zeke says impatiently tugging on my arm. He looks like a little kid in a candy store.

I look back at the guy. He eyes me carefully and inches away. "He's my friend." I say to him over the growing music.

His look softens a bit. "You're a good friend." Then he goes back to a conversation with someone else. What exactly does that mean?

"Zeke, why are there so many girls here?" I grab him by the collar as he almost follows a group of girls who walk by.

"Huh?"

"I've never been to a strip club before, but I'm pretty sure that this many girls never show up to watch female strippers."

Zeke takes a second to really look around. "Maybe they're into that kind of thing. Ooh! Maybe it's a lesbian night!"

My eyes harden at him. But before I can say anything else, the music picks up. Louder, faster, stronger. The girls in the room begin to scream and raise their drinks in the air. Some dance faster and others begin to clap.

That's when I realize what's going on. A poster to the left of the room with a big black and white picture of a male model it looks like, in a compromising position, and the words _Night of Testosterone_ written in big red letters. The date beneath it, is today's date.

I want to punch Zeke in the face. Not only did he drag me to a strip club, but he dragged me here on the one night they have male dancers.

The first one walks out in a pair of black short shorts, suspenders and a fireman's hat. The girls go crazy. I peak a look over at Zeke, whose excitement is slowly dying down to confusion.

"Wha..?" He watches as more male dancers take the stage, and some take the floor, giving lap dances to girls and dry humping them. It's horrifying to watch. Like live porn as Zeke would call it. Live _teasing._ All of the guys around us seem to have a similar feeling of discomfort as I do. And if they're actually here with girlfriends, sisters, wives, or whatever, then they must feel worse than I do.

I can feel my face heating up at the thought of what these guys are going through. How can they allow such a thing? It doesn't make any sense to me. Sure I get that there's nothing wrong with partners having fun on their own, but did they really need to bring their guy along? I know I wouldn't like it. What's mine is mine.

_Her_ face comes to mind. I push it away. She's not mine. Feelings of jealousy and confusion rush through me. What if she already has a guy? The thought makes my chest hurt. I turn back to the bar and put my head down. I can't think with the loud music playing.

"Four?" Zeke's hand is on my shoulder. We've been played.

"It's a male stripper night Zeke." I groan at him.

"Yeah I figured that much out." He sighs sadly next to me.

He's still not getting it. "Eric invited us to the night of male strippers!" I shout, though it doesn't sound like shouting in here.

His face turns like he's eaten something sour. "But at least we're members now."

I glare at him. Then turn and start walking away. I'm leaving.

"Four!" Zeke pushes through the crowd.

"They thought you were my gay friend, the way you were acting, hurrying to get in here. That's why the bouncers were laughing."

"Or we could have been gay lovers on a night out. You are wearing a leather jacket after all." He smirks, trying to get me to smile I think.

It doesn't work. "I'm going." I turn and walk away.

"Oh come on."

"I'm not going to sit here and watch guys dance like this for girls."

He pulls on my coat. My neck heats up as the spotlight flashes over us only briefly. That must be why the dancers wear hardly anything at all. Zeke looks at me pleading. "You said two hours!"

"That was before I knew it was male strippers." I push back trying to get away from him.

"Jeez Four, just enjoy the embarrassing moment. We'll laugh about it later. But hey, we're members now." He adds once more, as if saying that will get me to stay. He was trying to look on the bright side of things. A groan builds in my chest.

"Fine. But you owe me."

He smiles. "Of course. Anyway, it won't be that bad. We'll just sit back and watch. Have a few drinks. It will be funny in the morning." Somehow I don't think it will be funny for another ten years.

"I hate you." I growl as we walk back to the bar.

"You love me and you know it." He adds with a little extra flare as we pass other guys at the bar. They look at me sympathetically. I brush them off. But when Zeke orders us fruity drinks with paper umbrellas, I want to punch him in the face.

"If I'm going to laugh about it, I'm going to make sure it's definitely worth laughing about." He says as he hands me the drink. I'm really suppressing the urge to clock him.

I take a seat at the bar, holding the blue and pink drink with a stern expression. I probably look ridiculous. I even glance at the other guys for help, but they seem to be caught up in their own conversations. Keeping their heads down as their girls, whoever they are scream with joy.

A young man pushes his way up to the bar. I say young because he looks young in the face, but he has to be close to my age. His voice is too deep. He's wearing a tight black shirt and even tighter jeans. Too tight. He orders some kind of elaborate drink that I've never heard of.

I tried my best to look straight ahead at the dancers since Zeke was off somewhere flirting with a group a girls here for a 21st birthday. He said his angle was to be a guy either into guys or to swing both ways so they would trust that he's not there simply to hit on them. So far it looks like it's working. But I could feel eyes on me, and I have an unfortunate tendency not to look away when someone was looking at me. I find that if I look back at them, they'll stop it. I don't like to be looked at much.

"It's not polite to stare." I say gruffly looking at the young man.

Sure enough, he's staring at me. His dark eyes look me up and down. His mocha skin seems to have a sheen layer of sweat, as though he just finished dancing with the male strippers. Actually that's not a very fair term. Stripper indicates that they'll take off more clothes, but these guys are already wearing next to nothing.

"Sorry, I thought I knew you from somewhere." He answers kindly. Then looks away.

"George! George man where are those drinks?" A second young man comes up to the bar. He too looks sweaty and out of breath. He has much lighter skin than this George character, and only wears a loose black shirt and a pair of jeans. No shoes. Odd.

"They're coming." He smiles at the second guy, who then turns his look to me.

"Hey I know you."

"No, you probably don't." I say setting the colorful drink Zeke ordered for me down on the counter. He's still not back. I glance over to the direction he disappeared to and see him up against the wall making out with a girl wearing a tiara and short black dress. I roll my eyes and mumble some unkind words under my breath.

"Yeah! Yeah I do know you!" George looks at me. "You're Amar's T.A. Four."

This grabs my attention. "You know Amar?"

George looks a little guilty then. Picking up the drink that was just set down by the bartender. "I figured he wouldn't mention me. I'm George Wu, Amar's ex-boyfriend."

Well I certainly wasn't expecting that. I had always had my suspicions about Amar's preferences when it came to matters of the heart, but I never asked because it was never my business. "Oh. No he's never mentioned you." George looks a little worse. "But we never talk about personal relationships so that might be why."

"Thanks for trying to make me feel better." He says grimly, but manages to smile.

The second guy pats George's shoulder. New boyfriend maybe? Then he turns to me. "I know you from school. You T.A. a class a friend of mine is in."

"Which friend?" I ask sarcastically.

"Her name is Beatrice." Everything slows down. He says something else but I don't really hear him. "You might not know her, but she's in an English class of yours." Tris, her stern expression flashes in front of me. Heat creeps up my neck and threatens to show on my face. _Stop it Four!_ "I've seen you walk out of the building after her." Then he laughs to himself. "Well I mean not _right _after her because that would be creepy." He extends a hand to me. "I'm Robert."

He's the one she meets after class with Christina. I recognize him now. After only seeing him from a distance before, now here he is.

I don't shake his hand. He begins to pull it away. "It's not you." I say to him. "I don't shake hands, with anyone."

He smiles then. A little sloppily. Perhaps he's already had too much to drink. "You afraid of germs?"

"Something like that."

George and Robert leave then, going back to a table with a few others and they continue to laugh and drink. I watch them for a little while. Knowing that the pair of eyes who were looking at me before are now gone, but I can't help but feel like I'm still being watched.

A flash of blonde hair catches my attention to the side of the stage. But it soon turns out to be a girl in a tight blue and black dress, piss drunk. I release a heavy sigh I didn't know I was holding. Why am I looking for blonde hair?

The name _Tris_ appears in my head in Zeke's voice. I put my head back down on the table. I can't be constantly thinking about her. Even with her stormy eyes, bright hair and a stare that could stop any man in his tracks. What makes it even more attractive, is that she doesn't flaunt it. I wonder if she even knows she has that ability? That makes it even more attractive. Dammit.

Zeke has now returned. A huge grin on his face. He sways a little, and mumbles something about how many numbers he got. I smile a little, thinking about how hung over he's going to be.

"How are you ladies liking the show?" A hard icy voice says to us.

"Just fine Eric. Thank you so much for inviting us." Zeke slurs slapping Eric on the back. "Do you know how many digits I've gotten from drunk girls this fine night? So many!" He laughs.

Eric looks a little angry at this outburst. He mumbles something like _idiot_ under his breath and shrugs Zeke's arm off his back.

"And you Four? Enjoying yourself?" He smirks a little at me. He knows my rather harsh upbringing. He used to call me Stiff for how easy it was to make me flush with embarrassment.

"It's different than anything I've experienced so far that's for sure." I comment, my face strictly stern.

His smile widens. "I figured you would enjoy tonight. But now that you're members, you're more than welcome to come back any other night you please. I would recommend Tuesdays, Thursdays or Saturdays." He winks at Zeke, who hasn't noticed at all.

Why is he being so nice? Eric is never nice. He always has something else on his mind. "We will fo sho!" Zeke shouts obnoxiously. I have no idea how many drinks or shots he had when flirting around, but he's definitely done for the night.

I hear some other shouting and Eric begins to direct his smirk at Zeke, his eyes flitting back to the stage. An announcer suddenly shouts out a name and the females of the crowd begin chanting, "Snake! Snake! Snake!" I hope it's just a name and not some sexual innuendo.

A man with dark skin is raised onto the stage on a platform from somewhere below. He keeps his head down. A black trench coat over his body and a black fedora covering his head. This is practically asking for trouble, I can only imagine where its going to lead.

The music slows down and he begins to walk out on the catwalk in the middle of the guest dance floor. Girls frantically reach up to touch him. Even his boots. He flashes a white smile, but I still can't see his face.

At the first sound of a pounding drum, the coat comes off, and the hat flies somewhere into the crowd. He stomps the ground and begins some kind of tribal looking dance. I have to say, he is mesmerizing the way he moves. It's impressive how he keeps to the fast beat. But then he looks up and dread fills my stomach. My head spins and I can only imagine what Zeke is thinking.

Zeke has frozen in place and sobered up immediately.

"I thought you said he was busy tonight." I say looking over at Zeke.

He just nods, and then falls over backwards, out cold.

Eric just laughs and motions for some of his goons to help pull Zeke up. I follow them and watch as they lead him out of the club. I pick up his coat for him and then help Zeke to his car. I drive him home. I put him in his own bed. Laying him face down in case he gets sick and place his garbage bin on the side of the bed. Wishing I too could slip into unconsciousness after what was just revealed.

Uriah is a male dancer. I'm not sure if Zeke will yell at him, make fun at him, or use him to get girls. Either way, I should steer clear of it when it does happen.

I hear Zeke groan from the bed. He rolls over and pukes. Missing the bin.

It's going to be a long night.

****Please review!****


	10. Chapter 10

****Here we go again! Chapter 9 my lovelies! **

**I can't decide if the end of this chapter will make you guys happy or sad or frustrated or what, but I'm looking forward to hearing what you guys think. Some of you might yell at me…**

**BTW, for those of you waiting for Tris's figure to change, there is some of that in this chapter. It should be explained when the scene comes up, but it's a little different than a simple implant or surgery. It involves, hint hint, Jeanine. Ooh ahh!**

**I absolutely LOVED your reactions to the FourXZeke chapter this last week! I'm so glad that it got such positive feedback. I can guarantee you guys some FourXTris soon! But I'm not telling when! Could be this chapter, or the next…**

**Yes I agree, Eric is a butt head, but that's just who he is. And now that Four and Zeke are members, anyone thinking that they're going back to Dauntless to check out the girls?**

**And a little heads up, there is a week time gap, so last week was Friday night dancers and now its the Saturday, a week later. Just so ya know.**

**That's it for now honey-bunches! Enjoy!**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Tris POV - Saturday, November 22nd**

"Problem problem problem!" Christina yanks on my arm and pulls me off to the side of the building as we're leaving from a long day at the Pit and heading to Dauntless. Saturday dancing nights are my least favorite. Hoo-rah.

"What?" I ask, semi annoyed from the days events. I had unsuccessfully managed to avoid Professor Thompson yet again and was corned by him as I was waiting for Christina to come out of the locker room from our Physical Education class this last Thursday. He had gripped my wrists too tight, pressed up too close to me and whispered certain things in my ear that I would never want to hear again.

She looks around quickly before lowering her voice. "I think someone's in love." Then she mumbles something else.

I roll my eyes and glance over at Shauna getting into her car. "Anyone can see that." Zeke had stopped by again today, but only briefly, seeing as apparently there was somewhere he needed to be tonight. He seemed fidgety and a little nervous. More so than usual that is. Four was here too. I didn't look at him. I avoided him completely really. He only stayed by the front door while Zeke and Shauna talked. They're getting riskier. Even Gareth, who was our guard dog tonight, had risen from his seat and told Shauna to get back to work.

Christina shakes her head then. And points to herself. "Yeah but, Shauna's not the _only_ one in love."

My thoughts flash to that guy I saw her with after Amar's class a week ago. "Chris…?"

Her head dives into her hands and her body wracks a sob. "I tried Tris I really did, but I couldn't, stop it from happening. I don't know what to do."

"Who is he?" I ask guiding her slowly to her car that we always take to the club. If Max is watching the security cameras around this area, I'll just tell him she had a really stressful day today.

"He's no one really. Just this guy that keeps popping up in my day to day life. He's in one of my classes, and now I'm seeing him on my day off and he's come into the Pit a few times." Her voice evens out a bit. I don't remember seeing her pay any extra attention to anyone recently. "He's even started to hold my hand whenever we're together. It was just one of those things that I knew. That bottom of your stomach gut feeling that never fails you." She sighs into my shoulder. "I'm in such deep shit."

I nod. "Yeah, only if Max finds out." Not bothering to tell her the most recent news about Prof Thompson. He's been sneakier recently. I wish he would screw up.

She looks at me oddly as we get into her car. "That's not exactly the same reaction you had when Shauna broke down about Zeke. Why the change of heart?"

I release a heavy breath. I know Christina would keep it a secret if she tried, but I don't know if I should tell her about Four. The guy from my class who won't stop looking at me like some hurt puppy. The one who has recently begun invading my dreams. I can't tell her that I've been having the same reaction as her and seeing him everywhere I go, even if it's not technically him. I see black jackets and short brown hair, deep blue eyes and a stern face. It's everywhere I go. Even from Dauntless last Friday. I made sure to stay backstage and out of sight the entire time. Yesterday I saw a guy come into the Pit with a spare upper lip and a full bottom lip that made my heart clench. Even though I told it not to.

"Maybe I'm starting to feel a little rebellious." I tell her.

She smiles a little. Then frowns. "It just sucks you know. When we were sixteen, it seemed so simple. No boys, just work."

"Keep in mind that was four years ago."

"Yeah. I always thought once our teenage years passed, those raging hormones would die down."

I laugh. "How's that working out for you?"

She punches me in the arm, but lightly so it wouldn't leave a mark. Max would kill her. "Shut up. Health was never my best subject."

"Hopefully it will get easier."

She starts the car and pulls out of the lot. "Yeah, hopefully."

"What's his name?" I ask her once we're on the road.

She smiles when she speaks. "Will."

It was almost ten by the time we got to the club, our first show was in a half hour. Cara was starting it off tonight. It was late November now, and except for tonight and Halloween, I hadn't actually seen Four outside of class since that first night in the Pit, and then he showed up at Dauntless last week for _Night of Testosterone_. I can't help but feel like he was there on that specific night on accident. Part of me wishes he would come back to Dauntless and see me in action. I can't decide if it's because I want him to see me as sexy or as a girl he needs to stay away from. Then again if he's the chivalrous knight in shining armor then he might try to help me. Do I want his help? The reasonable part of my head screams at him to stay away.

Dauntless is packed as usual. The lineup outside is ridiculous. And because it's Saturday, more people are out and about in the night life.

I see a familiar black jacket, but brush it off. Just my mind playing tricks on me once again. There are a hundred black jackets in that line up.

We pull up around the back where all dancers or staff park, away from the crowds. Lauren-… Glo is waiting by the back door and lets us in as usual.

All of the girls are here except Molly and Cara. Molly I'm not surprised about, she'll probably be going to the Gutter soon if she's late again. But Cara… Not good. If she's not stage ready in ten minutes Eric will have her head, cut her pay, and then make her work extra hours with Cage time.

Peter is sitting on my makeup table, smirking at me. I roll my eyes and walk past him into the dressing area. Tonight's outfit consists of a black and red push up bra that shows off my raven tattoos quite nicely, black leather short shorts that could pass off as boy short panties, and fishnet stockings, also black. How original. Christina is wearing something similar, except where I wear red, she wears black, and where I wear black, she wears a dark violet. I slide on my boots last. I suppose that could be considered a bonus from working here, getting really good at wearing heels.

"Raven, my office." Eric's voice catches me off guard. Christina shoots me an odd look, as does Shauna when I walk past them. It's then that I notice Cara walking _out_ of Eric's office, fully decked out in her gear. At least she's on time. She looks pale.

Eric's office is small compared to the whole building, but it's enough. A desk against the back wall, some file cabinets and pictures of all the girls, past and present to join Dauntless. Since Molly was the newest addition to the group just two years ago, her picture is in last. All the pictures of the girls are in the outfits they wore on their first days, including me.

The one picture that was completely taken down many years ago, was that of the notorious Storm. The one Dauntless dancer who got away. It was said that she was Dauntless for the longest time, then was transferred to Abnegation, and that's when she split.

We all have black picture frames indicating a start at Dauntless, and a small colored ribbon hangs off of the frames of girls who left Dauntless. Well, not left so to say, as were transferred. Blue for Erudite, white for Candor, yellow for Amity, gray for Abnegation, purple for the Gutter, and a black ribbon diagonal through the picture if the girl is dead or assumed dead. It's in that moment that I notice a blue ribbon on Cara's picture.

I gape a little at the sight. Cara is being transferred. She might fit in better at Erudite, but that's going to be hard on her. Jeanine Mathews is the head manager of Erudite, and I heard she can be cruel like Eric, but she likes to psychologically manipulate people rather than physical harm. I don't know which would be worse.

"Trinity is leaving us as you can see." I turn back to Eric as he gestures to Cara's picture. She joined just a few months after Christina and me. "So we're bringing in someone new." He holds up an empty black picture frame. "She starts Tuesday night, and I want you to show her the ropes. Bring her in Monday night to watch from backstage as group one performs and help get her," he smirks. "Mentally prepared. She's a pretty one. Much more of a feminine body than some other dancers." He smiles wider. I know he's talking about me. "Her name is Cherry. You can ask her real name when you meet her if you care." He sits at his desk.

"Is that all?" I ask trying not to sound too annoyed.

"Almost." He smiles again. "You are one of our best dancers Raven, you have the most fans and the biggest group of men who ask for you, and that's because they like the innocent little girl act." He motions to my chest. "But it's time to grow up."

I glance down at my chest feeling bold, and put my hands on my hips. "Sorry, I don't really control that kind of thing." I say back with a little more sass than necessary.

He holds back a frown. "Exactly, which is why we've decided to put you on a test run. The first to use it actually." He pulls something out of his desk. A needle. "Hormones, you see. They're supposed to do some shit to your body, and result in a more womanly figure faster than your body is allowing."

I gulp.

"Jeanine invented it actually. She is a very intelligent woman."

"You sound like a fan."

"I would be stupid not to be. Now it will take some time, but you are to have one of these shots every night you come in for dancing over the next two weeks. Starting now." He hands me the needle. "Into your hip to be sufficient. Then in two weeks' time, you should have hips and breasts for once in your life. It should last six months, but then again, this is just a test." He smirks. "Could be permanent. I'd offer to buy you new clothing, but that's not my job. You and Candy are close, go ask her to take you shopping. You're gonna need it."

Bile rises in my throat. Sure my body isn't the best for this job, but I don't want it to change that much. I like my body. What if it _is_ permanent? I hate needles.

"Well, shows about to start. Get on with it." He says annoyed.

I bite my lip and carefully stick myself with the needle, pushing in the clearish-blue liquid. It doesn't sting, not really. Actually it's kind of calming.

He smiles. "Good, now go finish getting ready."

I nod and set the needle on his desk, then quickly walk out of the room pressing a finger to the injection site to stop the small traces of blood.

Peter is right outside waiting for me. "I see Eric gave you the shot. I asked him if I could be the one to give it to you." I grimace and try to push past him. "He said no, that you had to do it yourself. Legal purposes and all. But I do get to watch you each day and make sure you take it." He smiles.

"Fuck off Peter." He still doesn't move. "I need to finish getting ready." He smiles wider.

"I know. But I do need to tell you that you've been booked twice tonight in the private rooms."

"Okay fine, which ones and what time?"

"Room 2 at 11pm, and Room 5 at midnight. Each a half hour long."

"Okay, thanks." I say this time elbowing past him. Room 2 should get me tips, since I just dance with a pole right in front of a small group of men, sometimes women. Room 5 though will slow me down. In that room I dance behind a wall of glass while they watch me. Not as easy to get tips there. But it does cost more to have that room. Better seating and lighting. So it should go towards my earnings.

I sit down at my station and begin to apply the heavy makeup. Not nearly as heavy as some of the other girls but it's heavy for me. Thick black liner and smoky shadow. Red lips tonight to match my outfit. Christina has the same idea with purple lipstick to match hers. She slides her hair extensions into place so no one will recognize her. I slide my black wig on as well, it's shaped to look like a messy ponytail with large black waves in the back, and bangs in front. I slide on some fake stud diamond earrings and declare myself ready.

The music started not that long ago, and most of the girls are out doing a backup dance to Cara's main session. Molly finally decided to show up. Eric hounded her, but she didn't seem to care. I can tell he wants her out. He'd much rather keep Cara, but Molly brings in money and Max doesn't usually question how. So she stays.

Lynn and I are the only ones apart from Molly who aren't on stage. I suppose this is a sendoff for Cara in a way. She dances hard and long as the song continues on. My favorite kind of music is when there are drums involved. The steady beating is really what gets me going. And when the bass is loud enough to practically not only sway my heart beat, but to give me a whole new one in addition to the original.

I walk out into the crowds with Lynn and Christina when she's done on stage and Shauna and Tori take over. Molly gets put in the Tank. We're just wading through, offering lap dances and asking in a very seductive manner if everyone is having a good time. A few of the guys offer to buy me drinks or _buy _me for the night. Eric says we can only have two shots a night to loosen up if need be, but no more. As for when they ask my price for the night, I tell them in the _kindest _way possible that they couldn't afford me even if that option was on the table, and to go look for a prostitute. I'm a dancer, not a whore.

The effects of whatever drug I gave myself have begun to take their toll. I'm flittering around, smiling and even giggling, but my breasts hurt. It feels like I'm on my period in my abdomen. The happy side though ignores it.

I feel bubbly and it's strange. I get the feeling that more eyes than usual are one me, but it must be a paranoia side effect of the drug.

11pm rolls around soon enough and I'm getting ready in the back room behind private room 2. It's a group of five guys here for a bachelor party of sorts. I make sure they have fun, and focus on the groom-to-be the most. They shove money at me when I shake my ass, flip my hair or do the splits upside-down while holding onto the pole.

I take a small break after, my boots already full of money. I walk backstage and make sure Peter is present when I empty my boots. He looks impressed. I can't help the smile on my face, but it feels wrong. Too happy. I walk back out, boots free of money and continue to work the crowd as Raven.

Cara had just gone backstage for a private dance of sorts when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey Raven, I want a lap dance." His voice is tangled with alcohol.

I glance at the clock, fifteen minutes until I'm scheduled next, I can manage one lap dance. I don't even recognize the guy, but he seems familiar. I decide to add a little extra friendliness to this one. Spice it up a bit. Maybe it'll bring in more money.

A few guys around us cheer me on as I sensually tease the guy up and down, side to side, and a few other directions. Heck, I feel like I could go inside out if it was possible. I feel invincible right now. Blood rushing and everything is perfect. Heart beat steady to the sound of the drums in the music, the spotlight finds me more than once, and the noise gets louder.

When the time is up, the guy looks to be in shock. Wide eyed, and mouth hanging open. His friends have shoved more than enough money to cover the dance into my boots, shorts and bra.

"See ya later boys." I blow a kiss at them and they scramble like cartoon characters to catch it.

Room 5 is filled with a small handful of what looks like guys fresh out of high school. Interesting. But they go silent when they see me walk in and the lights lower. They should be here for the Initiation Dance in room 1 if they've truly never been here before. But from what I can see before I go out is that two or three of them look like they know their way around. The others are jittery.

It's like they've never seen a dancer of my profession up close before. This should be fun. Maybe they're rich kids. More than enough money comes out of their pockets as I dance for them. Trying something new rather than sticking to the pole the whole time, I press myself up against the glass divider that separates myself from the small audience. I watch them almost with desperate eyes, like I'm reaching for them. I twist and turn and they reach the edge of their seats.

When the half hour is over. I even give them a small bow as I exit. I hear more than a few of them groan that they should have paid for the hour long dance.

I can't help the smile on my face.

Even Eric couldn't wipe it off when he walked by me in the back hallways of the private rooms. He watched me carefully, then looked at the total I made by dancing in that one private room. It's hard to surprise Eric, so when his eyes widened just for a moment, I smiled harder. He doesn't say anything, and I don't expect him to. Just keep walking.

Everything is perfect right now.

"Hello Raven."

Except for that.

He leans up against the wall, just under the overhead lighting advertising the private rooms.

"Hello." My happy dies down a little.

"How many did you dance for?"

"People?" I ask to clarify.

He nods, stiffly. His face now visible as he moves to show that he is in a somewhat angry state of mind. He also looks like he's had a few to drink. The side of his mouth hangs open slightly. I can smell it on him.

"Ten maybe." I answer honestly.

I hear him growl slightly.

"That's my job. You shouldn't be getting angry about it. It's my life. You don't own me." I snap, yet a smile reappears on my face.

He doesn't like this response. He moves as though he's about to strike me for talking back to him. When Eric walks in. Never in my life had I thought I would be happy to see his cold face.

"Is there a problem here?" He's directly talking to Professor Thompson. He actually moves to stand in front of me. Defending me. I must have made more money than I thought in order to have him become protective of me. My smile widens.

"No. No problem." He slurs a little. Much more than he did a minute ago. He's acting. Clever boy.

"Need I remind you Connor that you do not get to buy the girls? You cannot always book them for yourself." Has this happened before? "We don't want a repeat of last time, right?" That answers my question.

He grumbles and looks down at his feet.

"Eric I need you-… oh, sorry, I didn't realize I was interrupting anything." His voice mumbles as he slows down. Al, our technician says coming to a halt in front of us.

Eric looks at him annoyed. I just watch him. Anything but looking at Professor _Connor_ Thompson. We hardly ever see Al, since he sets up all the timers for the lights and music during the day. But on occasion he's here at night. Honestly, I haven't seen him up close in two months. His dark hair is longer, and now hanging in his eyes. I give him a small smile. He's always been a friend since Christina and I got here. Nothing more. His blue green eyes flash to mine and he returns the smile.

Eric turns back to Thompson and says a few words to him that make him grumble even more, but gets him to walk off.

"What do you want?" He asks now looking at Al.

"One of the lights went out. I can manage for tonight, but there's none left in the supply room. We need more."

Eric nods. "I'll fill out an order form." Then his glare hardens. "Why didn't you tell me we were running low? You're supposed to come to me when we're down to five."

Al tried not to look annoyed. He actually looked a little frightened under Eric's questioning glare. "I went to Peter like you told me to last time. I told him we were getting close when we hit ten, and then asked him to fill out a request when we hit five." He shrugs his shoulders. "If you're going to blame anyone, blame him. I have my copy of the request that I gave him from two weeks ago."

He looks at Al carefully. I try to slip by him since I have a stage performance coming up soon.

"Not yet Raven. I need to talk to you." Eric says, cold and unwavering. I feel myself shiver, and he's not even looking at me.

"I will check on the paper work and talk to Peter." He says to Al. "Now get back up there."

Al nods and looks at me one last time. Al and I have been friends for almost four years, and he still doesn't even know my real name. He can't. It's not like I haven't seen him outside of Dauntless. He knows my hair color is really a non-highlighted blonde, and that I never wear this much makeup in public. But he doesn't know my name. He doesn't know any of our real names. And he doesn't ask. Something I've always admired about him. He's not nosy, and knows that when it's not his business, don't ask questions. I don't even know his full name. All I know him by, is Al.

"Raven." Eric says turning to me once Al is gone. His voice a little less icy.

"Yes?"

"Why does Connor follow you like that?"

I'm sure I don't know what you mean Eric, except for the fact that he's my new number one fan and loves to harass me. "I don't know."

His eyes narrow. "You're hiding something."

_Really? What was it that tipped you off?_ "What?"

"Don't test my patience Raven. You know I'll find out sooner or later. And if it ends up being later and you didn't tell me, it'll be worse for you." His voice lowers dramatically. Normally I would shrink away from him to subtly let him know that he still has power over me. But I don't really feel like doing that right now. I feel bold.

Tell him. "He has some kind of fetish for me I guess. I gave him a private dance not that long ago, and he _really_ enjoyed it." His eyes widen a little. I think the most protective I've ever seen him, is when one of us girls is in trouble. Partially because Max would fire him and make his life Hell if anything ever happened to us. "Ever since then he's been after me." That's part of the truth.

Eric seems to think this over for a moment. "I'll let it slide this time. Next time I expect you to come to me sooner."

"Yes sir." I say, my smile returning. I'm happy again.

He smirks at my giddiness, and mumbles something about the drug, but I don't really hear it. I don't want to think about what was in that syringe.

I get on stage and dance my heart out. I'm partnered with Bambi - Shauna - for this routine. The happy effect continues on through the night. More people cheer. I'm used to it. Edward grabs at me after the routine. I'm used to it. After his lap dance I go around to others and do the same. I'm used to it. Molly, acting as either her alter ego Porsche, or Molly herself is drying humping a guy in a booth as he shoves money down her top. I'm used to it. Tori, as Paris has even started some kind of threesome of feeling each other up in the private ring above the main floor. I'm used to it. So much of this lifestyle doesn't faze me anymore. Part of me wonders if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Part of me just doesn't care.

Cara finishes off tonight as a farewell. Candy and I are back up for her, mostly swinging on the ropes around the stage. In a sensual manner of course. Eric even makes an announcement over the speaker that Trinity, Cara, will no longer be joining us here at Dauntless. That she will now be serving at Erudite. Some boos and ahhs go through the crowd. But as she takes one final bow on stage she smiles. They think she smiles because they're cheering for her. She's really smiling because she's leaving this dark black hole of a place.

Backstage, there's even a small plate of cookies. Store bought, but we'll take it. And a blue balloon tied up at Cara's station. She'll come back tomorrow and clear it of her things. Then we get the new girl, Cherry. She'll get Cara's station, and I'll show her around Monday night. Tell her about how things work around here and get her settled. I even get to be the one to take her to the tattoo artist to get the Dauntless wings on her lower back. We use Eric's card. The artist knows us all by heart. Whenever one of us enters with a new face, he leads us to a back room, no questions asked. Max pays him extremely well for all of his girls' tattoos.

Dauntless clears as we remove our outfits and wigs and makeup. It's a timely process, but it's worth it. I hang my wig up and organize my small makeup tray a bit waiting for Christina. She's always one of the last ones out. Everything has to be perfect with her. Eric both appreciates this in her, and is incredibly annoyed by it.

"I'm going to wait outside Christina." I shout back to her. It's too hot in here for me suddenly. I need fresh air. Cold air. My head feels heavy. The drug must be wearing off. The room starts to spin as I walk as gracefully as I can towards the back door. Everyone else is already gone.

I open the back door after a momentary struggle. Everything is moving faster, or it's taking my eyes longer to keep up with the world.

I lean against the back of the brick wall of the building and take deep uneven breaths. I feel light as a feather, yet it's incredibly difficult to move any part of me. What is going on? Is it a side effect of the drug I gave myself? Eric said it was a test… Am I just a guinea pig? I hear sounds like someone talking mixed with a car horn and maybe a trumpet. But it's all blurry too.

After moving my arms to try and press my hands over my ears to block out the weird noise of 3am Chicago, I realize my arms are no longer holding up my body against the wall. My legs give out from under me and I collapse to the cement. Laying there, it sure is cold. It feels good. Too good.

Shadows over take my vision and the weightless feeling is back, like I'm floating. Then I'm warm again. What is this, early menopause? Too warm. But I'm resting in something comfortable now. The world needs to make up its mind on what it's trying to make me feel.

One voice lingers in the back of my head. It's deep, and not quite unfamiliar, but also not well known to me. A car's engine sounds louder now. Maybe Christina got me into her car. That means we're going home. I miss my bed.

"Tris. It'll be okay. Just hang on." A voice says. Honestly, I don't know if it's a male or female. My gut stirs a bit, and nerves suddenly wrack my body. My heart beat speeds up drastically and suddenly I'm shaking. I can't stop it. Someone is shouting my name. It almost sounds like my father scolding me for playing on the playground for too long. Funny. I wonder what his voice would sound like now. Maybe like Caleb's voice.

Bright lights fill my fading vision. I don't like it.

"Help her please." The voice yells again. Now it sounds like mom. That can't be right though.

I'm so tired and cold.

Something sticks in my arm. I want to swat it away or scream that I don't like needles. But it's gone before I can even convince my arm to move. Nothing is moving. My chest feels heavy. My vision finally fades.

Everything is black.

****Ooohhh another cliffy! I would say sorry, but I'm kinda not… what do you guys think is going to happen? Let me know! Please review!****


	11. Chapter 11

****Hey hey dearies! Another Monday has rolled around and graced us with it's presence! You know what that means… UPDATE!**

**Happy MLK day to those of you readers in the states. And did any of you watch the football games yesterday!? OMG that SeahawkXPackers game was intense. I think I got some gray hairs from watching it. And please no hate, but I am from Washington state so naturally I'm a Seahawks fan. No I don't always agree with their actions but they are my home team.**

**Now to address some reviews:**

**Divergent Kitty – don't you worry! No you did not blurt my entire plot but there was something you said that will happen! Haha!**

**Aisc – you bring up a good point, I can see how others might be confused as to how the dancers are owned by Eric and Max. The main thing to understand is that Eric and Max pray on young women and make them dependent on them so they won't leave. Promise them good money and such. Then if they try to leave, they are hurt or killed (no one knows!) Think of it like a pimp who owns his girls. They don't leave because they're scared and rely on them so much. **_**Tris might just have to change that **_

**To every reviewer who called me a meanie or butt head for the cliffy last chapter… sorry. But also I'm not really that sorry. **** I gave the last chapter to my sister to read before I had posted it and she screamed at me. But it's all good!**

**Love the reactions and reviews! Keep um coming!**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Tris POV - Sunday, November 23rd**

My head is pounding faster than the drums in my last routine. Cara's sendoff last night. I need to go to the store and buy some more advil for the headaches. Christina used the last of it last week when her arms hurt from a new dance we learned not that long ago.

Lights are still flashing behind my eyelids. But it's a different kind of light. It's a constant bright light, and my eyelids are what's causing the flickering. I don't like it.

My knees sting a bit, and it feels like I'm on my period honestly. It's like my uterus weighs a hundred pounds now. No cramping though, so I can't be on my period. Too soon anyway. Granted, it has never really been on a set schedule because it hates me.

Another thing that hurts, my boobs. It feels like I've been punched in each more than a few times. I can't help the groan that escapes me.

"Beatrice?" A voice asks. I don't know this voice. My shoulders tense immediately at the close proximity to the voice. Ready to defend myself if need be, though I don't think I'd be able to move as fast as I like.

"Can you hear me?" Another voice, a male voice, asks. More lights shine in my eyes, now that my eyelids are being pulled open. The male voice continues to talk but I don't focus on what he's saying, more the tone he's using. Is he a threat to me? But it doesn't sound threatening. It sounds soft and calm. I still don't like it. I feel vulnerable.

My vision takes a while to fully come back into focus. But when it does, I feel myself freeze. I'm in a hospital. That smell of linens and rubbing alcohol I thought I smelled did not betray me. A man in a white coat stands in front of me checking a clipboard, and a woman in maroon scrubs puts a stethoscope to my chest.

"Beatrice you need to breathe. Slow deep breaths please." The nurse says to me. My eyes flash over to hers. She's smiling lightly, trying to encourage me. She has long dark hair pinned up behind her, and soft brown eyes. Looking at her is rather comforting, but all the same… I'm in a hospital. This is not good. I can't be here. If Eric or Max found out I'm here I could be in deep trouble. If it was someone else's fault that brought me here, that would be a different story. But as far as I remember, it was my own fault for collapsing on the side of the building. I think.

I try to open my mouth to speak, but my voice is soft and cracked.

"What was that?" The nurse asks as she hands me a dixi cup half filled with water. I glance at her nametag, Nita.

I drink the water greedily. My breathing increasing, as well as my heart beat.

"Calm down Beatrice." She says in a sweet manner. "Your heart was under quite a lot of pressure. Don't strain it any more than you need."

"How long?" I croak out.

"I'm sorry…?" She looks at me with a sad expression. I don't need her pity.

I swallow thickly. "How long have I been here?" My voice is quiet, and the last bit trails off slightly, but she seems to understand.

"Less than a day." A huge weight is lifted from my chest. The doctor in the back of the room has stepped out momentarily from what I can tell. His hand is still on the door knob on the other side of the door. A phone is up to his ear, and he keeps glancing back at me through a little window in my room. There's a small frown upon his face and his eyes are full of concern.

"I need to leave." I say trying to sit up.

"Not until the doctor gets a look at you." She says as though scolding me.

I feel a small smile on my face. "I can take care of myself."

She looks like she's trying not to huff at me. "I don't doubt that. But the doctor needs to check you out before you can leave."

"Legally I can just walk out." I challenge back. Max made sure we were all aware of any legal obligations when it comes to the police, hospitals and any other trouble we might find ourselves in. "You can advise me to stay, but if I ask for it, you have to give me my discharge papers."

Nita's mouth forms a thin line. "Then I strongly advise you to wait until the doctor checks you out." Her eyes flick down to my arms and trace the light bruising from hitting the ground last night.

"Have I been sexually assaulted? Any broken bones? A concussion?" I ask her.

"No." Her eyes narrow, and she growls lightly. She doesn't like being turned down. "I think you should be checked out though."

"No thanks. Besides I have somewhere I need to be." That's a lie. It's Sunday, my only day off. That doesn't mean I don't have homework I need to get done.

"Beatrice." She says stiffly.

"Don't call me that." I almost growl at her.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. "What are you so afraid of? The doctor will help you."

"I don't need help." I grumble as I move the sheets off my body. "Please remove this needle in my arm before I rip it out." I can't even look at the needle.

Nita unfolds her arms from across her chest and she sighs heavily. Reluctantly removing the needle and giving me a bandage.

"Wait here, I'll go get the papers." She says. "Your clothes are over on the chair." Then she leaves.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

Moving slowly, I manage to lift my body up off the bed. It feels bruised, and sore. More so than I know it should after a night of dancing. Hopefully they hadn't run any tests on me yet. I would hate to find out what was really in that drug. I have a policy where if it's none of my business then I don't ask, unless it's life threatening. As far as I'm concerned, the drug is not life threatening. And even though it is considered _my _business, I'm choosing not to know.

I grab my clothes after slowly moving over to the chair. Good thing I don't have to dance until Tuesday night. But I do need to bring in the new girl to watch tomorrow night.

Slowly shuffling to the bathroom to change and get rid of this horrid hospital gown, I catch a view of my arm that until recently was home to an IV needle. My head begins to spin once more, and my stomach flips like it's on the cheer squad. I need to sit down and stop looking at it. But I can't. It's a mixed color of red, green and purple against my pale skin. It's sickening and mesmerizing at the same time.

I really need to sit down. What I think is a graceful way of letting myself down to the ground, really ends up being a smack on the cold tile. My back up against the wall as I lean my head on the door frame. My vision is fuzzy again. No. I will not give them a reason to keep me here.

With difficulty, I manage to pull on my black pants from yesterday and am in the process of getting my shirt on when the door opens. It's only then, I realize I'm still sitting halfway in between the door frame of the bathroom. Not fully shielded as I've started to remove my top. I lower the gown as quickly as I can and try to scream, but nothing comes out really.

"Tris." The voice is low and sad almost.

The person hasn't really come into focus yet. But I've heard that voice before. It matches with a black jacket and dark hair. My face heats up, as well as other parts of me.

This is so embarrassing. I don't want him here. How did he even find me?

He comes closer. I flinch away. He looks hurt, but ignores my frustrated groans. My arms once again heavy refuse to listen to me. I'm dying to scream, but my voice is lost.

Keeping his dark blue eyes trained on me the whole time, he slowly peels away my hospital gown from my chest, exposing me. I try to protest, but I soon find that he isn't looking at my body. He's staring into my eyes. I can feel my everything heat up at the intimate stare he's giving me. This seems to earn a little smile out of him.

He fixes my shirt in place and scoops me up off the ground bridal style, setting me gently on the bed.

I'm grateful for him, even if I don't show it. It's hard to meet his intense gaze now. It feels like he is staring right though my head. Maybe he is and he can read my thoughts, or memories. God I hope not. His eyes are such a deep shade of blue that they almost look black, but the middle rim of his eyes are more of a light blue. It's gorgeous really. Not that I'd ever tell him that. He probably gets that from a lot of girls. Suddenly I feel inadequate. Hanging my head so that my chin almost hits my chest.

"Tris?" He asks, voice deep as ever.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, surprised that my question is clear. Memories of last night come back slowly and foggy. But I do remember him at the Pit with Zeke last night. Is he just following me now? I really hope this is pure coincidence, though I have a hard time believing in those any more.

He takes a step back, hopefully sensing my discomfort.

Before he says anything, the door opens and nurse Nita walks in, paperwork and a bag of my personal possessions in hand. She stops short, and looks like the breath has left her body.

"T?" She asks quietly.

T? Must be another nickname like Four. The growing number of them makes me wonder what he hides in his past as well. It's obvious people like Amar and Zeke know him beyond the nickname. I just find myself increasingly curious about why he has them.

He stares at her for a moment, then seems to recognize her. The way his eyes light up make my heart suddenly hurt.

"Juanita." He breaths her name almost lovingly.

She smiles and starts to giggle. "Been a while hasn't it? It's just Nita by the way." She motions to her nametag.

"Yeah, a long time. And it's actually Four now."

She looks a little confused. "Like the number?" He must get that question a lot.

He hangs his head almost in an embarrassed manner. "Yeah."

She laughs then walking closer to him. "You were always a strange guy."

I shrink back onto my bed. Wishing to just disappear and be swallowed up by a black hole, a cage of Hell, anything really. Anything would do. I don't want to see this reunion. I wish I never even knew of it's existence.

"Last time I saw you, you had pudgy cheeks and curly hair." She seems to tease him. I wonder what his hair would look like curly. _Stop that! _It's too short to be curly, but maybe if it was just a little longer. _What did I just say?!_

My heart sinks even more when he laughs. "That was a long time ago. It's good to see you."

"You too." She smiles at him in a way that is beyond flirty. I don't want to be here anymore. I'll let them catch up with whatever they need, but just leave me out of it.

"Can I get my papers?" I ask her harshly.

Nita jumps a little, as though she forgot I was there. Four however, doesn't jump, but looks at me with a concerned expression behind his stern face. I don't want him to look at me. Not when there's any way I can compete with her. Then again, it's not really a competition. My body compared to hers is a joke. Plus they have history it seems. I'm not in the races, he barely even knows I exist. Not to mention he would go running for the hills when if he ever learned what it is I do for money.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to be looked at?" She asks, her sweet voice returning. But her eyes are still glaring at me behind her mask. What a suck up.

"I already was." I mutter under my breath and throw a side glance at Four, who actually looks a little shameful. She doesn't hear it thankfully as she hands me the papers.

"So, do you two know each other?" Nita asks taking a seat in one of the chairs. Her voice though kind, sounds like she's walking on glass. Careful not to upset Four or jump to any conclusions. She never looks at me or even nods in my direction. Doesn't she have other patients to attend to?

"School." I answer quickly. I know both of their eyes are on me. Waiting to elaborate or something. But I don't. I'm content with my answer. If she wants to know more, then she can ask Four. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to answer her. He'd probably say something like _she's just a quiet chronic bitch faced student who works at a diner my best friend's girlfriend works at._ I shiver a little, but don't alter my thought.

But he doesn't say anything about school. He's looking at Nita for the most part, but his eyes flick to me when he talks. I pretend not to notice. "I brought her in." I stop mid signature on one of the pages.

"What?" Nita and I both ask at the same time. Hers out of complete shock, and mine out of frustration and panic. Hopefully he doesn't pick up on it.

A small rock drops in my chest. I remember thinking I heard mom and dad's voice when I was brought in. I knew it couldn't be true. I saw their bodies myself after the accident. Tears prick behind my eyes and I turn my head away from the two of them. No one will see me cry. Suddenly my arms ache to hug my mom, or wear one of my dad's old shirts just to see him smile. Maybe I was so close to death that I heard them inside my head. Weirder things have happened.

He looks down at me then fully. Not her, me. And I don't meet his gaze. "I found you in the parking lot. I drove you here and got you checked in. You were so out of it and so pale." He almost sounds wounded.

"Why?" I ask, my voice quiet now.

A frustrated look takes his face. I look up at him, convinced it doesn't look like I was just about to cry. His brow is furrowed, and his eyes blaze into mine. Not backing down, but submitting at the same time. What an odd combination. "I guess I don't like seeing you in pain."

That's it. My heart takes off like a rocket. My head tells it to calm down, but there's no stopping it now. A small sheen of sweat coats my palms and probably my upper forehead. My mouth drops open slightly and my tongue darts out to wet my lips. His eyes flick down to watch this action and his pupils dilate.

Nita on the other hand looks like she's ready to swoon. "That's so kind of you _Four_." She smiles wide as she stands up and starts walking over to him, testing out his new name for herself. "You're just as nice as I remember. Gentle number boy." She's standing right in front of him, a hand almost reaching his chest as about to caress him.

I can feel my face heat up. He looks a little uncomfortable.

"If you guys are going to screw, at least let me leave the room first." I grumble looking back at the paperwork.

Nita makes a squeaking noise and her face becomes a tomato. Four on the other hand looks even more uncomfortable and takes a step back from both of us. A blush covering his face too, but not nearly as noticeable.

"Beatrice." She says grabbing both of our attention.

I'm growling now. "I said, don't call me that."

"That's what it says on your chart, so that's what I'll call you. Unless you would prefer Miss Prior?"

My glare hardens immensely. She takes a step back, and towards Four at the same time, a smile on her face. He just watches us carefully, his eyes flitting back and forth between Nita and myself. Probably wondering who will jump first.

I finish signing the papers and shove them at Nita. She takes them and just turns right back to Four. A victorious smile on her face.

My lips itch to thank him for what he did. Bring me to safety and then stay to make sure I was okay. Then begin a complete gentleman as I was freaking out and having issues with my shirt. Maybe I was, or am still a little high off of whatever that was. If it affects me like this every time I'll be in trouble. I'll need Christina to watch me and make sure I get home okay each night. Then I'll need to tell her about the injection itself and that will just make her angry.

I grab the bag of personal affects while Nita and Four talk quietly. More like Nita talks, and Four listens. Inside the bag are my purse, phone, wallet, keys and a pack of half opened mint gum.

Once again, I feel my heart beat speed up. My wallet has been opened, probably so they could confirm my identity. But what scares me the most, is a Dauntless business card laying out in the open. If Four found me and went through my things before handing them over, that means he knows. Idiot, he found me _at _Dauntless! _He knows…_

I run. I don't know what else to do. Whenever trouble has come my way, I've relied on my legs to carry me away.

They carry me down the hallway and out into the parking lot. They don't stop. Down the street, through the crosswalk and into an alleyway. I can't breathe. My mind tries to convince me that he may not have seen it, that he may not have even realized what it was he was looking at, or that I'm even a dancer! _He found you outside of Dauntless you moron. Why else would you be there? What excuse do you have now?_

A presence comes up behind me as I'm leaning against the random brick wall. I can't scream. I'm too tired. My limbs feel heavy once more. Dammit.

"Tris?"

Pin pricks travel up and down my spine. "You're following me now?" I breathe out harshly.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're okay. Clearly you're not."

"Says who?"

"Have you heard yourself breathe lately?" A hint of amusement in his voice. Since when is he so open and non-brooding?

I turn around and look at him. The midday sun casts a shadow over his face since I'm so short without my heels. I don't need to see his face to know what it looks like. Or the expression he's giving me. He stands there casually, hands in pockets, and his hair is messy. As though it hadn't been brushed recently. Strange, he usually seems so put together.

"What are you doing here _Four_?"

He moves closer to me. I force myself to flinch away. "What were you doing outside of Dauntless?" He asks back.

"Don't answer a question with a question." I glare at him, my legs wobbling from exertion.

Four's features harden to match my own, but his eyes dance back and forth between my eyes and my mouth, probably because I'm wheezing whenever I breathe. When I begin to cough, his look softens, but only slightly.

"Let me walk you home." He moves around me and helps hold me up as I continue to hack up a lung. The cold air is not helping me much.

He drapes something around my shoulders, and I feel instantly warmer. I steal a glance up and see a leather jacket around me that is clearly too big. It makes me look like a small child trying on her parents' clothes. It makes my chest hurt, but I don't fight him. I'm in no shape to be picking fights anyway. Plus I would get Cage time for sure if my face was bruised, no matter how much money I brought in last night.

The wind has picked up when we leave the alleyway. Four has an arm around my waist to keep me from collapsing. I try to push him away at first, but I soon found out that without his support, I wouldn't be able to make it home alone.

It's not quite downtown Chicago, but we do need to catch a train to get to my apartment. I show Four which one to get on, and hear him make some comment to himself. We get on the train and find seats by the windows. It takes off at a fast jolt, like always. I've wondered sometimes, what it would be like to jump on and off a train while it's still moving, or at least to hang out of the doorway to feel the wind in my face as it speeds down the tracks. Christina and I tried something like it once. It was nighttime, and we ran after the train once it started to move. We jumped over the tracks and grabbed hold of the back of the train car. We held on tight trying to contain our laughter and excitement from the rush it sent through us. I can't help the smile that comes to my face thinking about it. That was almost three years ago. Speaking of Christina, she's probably wondering where I am.

I reach into my bag to pull out my cell phone, but it's dead. Great.

"Can I use your phone?" I ask Four, my voice cracking.

He shifts his head quickly, and looks down at me surprised. But there's something else on his face, the base of his neck is red and it's slowly creeping up to his ears. Like he was caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Sure." He pulls out a simple black smart phone and hands it over. "Can I ask what you were thinking about?"

Was he watching me? That's why he's embarrassed? "You physically can. I don't know if you will though." I reply smartly. My grammar-Nazi side showing.

I don't look at him, but I can almost hear the smile on his face.

I punch in Christina's number quickly and bring it up to my ear. She picks up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Chris. It's me."

"TRIS?!" I wince and pull the phone away from my ear quickly. Four chuckles next to me.

"No need to shout." I cough lightly.

"What do you mean no need to shout?! I've been looking for you since last night! You're phone went straight to voicemail, I got so worried!"

"Sorry. I had an, um… accident."

She's quiet for a moment. Accident is a common enough word where anyone over-hearing our conversation would just think of whatever their definition of an accident is. But for us, it's code for police or hospital specifically. She knows as well as I do that Max doesn't want us associating with either.

"What kind of accident?" She asks tentatively.

"I'm going to have to get back to you on that." I say throwing a glance over at Four who is looking straight ahead. But it's strained, like he's forcing himself not to look anywhere else.

"Is someone with you?" Christina asks.

"Yep."

"Okay. Tell me when you get home. Which will be…?"

"On the train now."

"Okay. I'll see you soon." Then she hangs up.

I hand the phone back to Four and look out the window once more. We sit the rest of the ride in silence. Neither one of us making eye contact with the other, or bringing up any kind of conversation. Then, we get off at my stop, in equal silence. He continues to help hold me up, and I don't protest this time.

Knowing that a boy shouldn't know where I live I stop him two blocks before my street.

"I can make it from here." I say shrugging off his jacket.

But he stops me when I try to give it back to him. "Keep it. I have another."

I give him a look. "What am I going to do with a jacket that's four times bigger than me?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something." He says sternly.

"What's with the attitude?" I snap.

"What's with all the secrets?" He snaps right back.

"You're answering a question with a question again." We stand there, facing one another, each delivering a hard expression. I feel my composure breaking, the longer I look into his eyes. Such an unusual color.

"One question." He says finally. "I'll answer one of your questions, but then you have to answer one of mine. That's it for right now."

"Why? Scared you'll learn something you'd rather not know?" I challenge.

He frowns. "Is that going to be your one question?"

"No." I grumble. "Is that yours?"

"No. You ask yours first. You're the one who keeps bringing them up anyway." He looks away from me and off down one of the streets. I'd kill to know what's on his mind, but I only get one question. He's practically the definition of the hundred yard stare.

A few questions roll through my mind; What were you doing at Dauntless? How did you find me? Why did you help me? Why did you stay at the hospital? Why are you so worried about my pain? Who is Nita?

That last one squeezes my heart. I know it shouldn't. But it does, and it makes me cough. It becomes more violent to the point where I'm doubled over, hacking.

I feel his hand on my back, rubbing circles over my shirt. My grip tightens around his jacket in my arms and I inhale his scent. Musky with hints of laundry detergent and cinnamon. It's absolutely intoxicating. Deep breath after deep breath, I find myself clinging to this new scent as a lifeline. I don't know if he noticed, but I stopped coughing and was just standing there inhaling his scent and having him rub circles on my back. It's incredibly calming. I close my eyes and just focus on the feel of his hand. Rough probably, but gentle at the same time. A feeling in the pit of my stomach begins to stir as I ache to feel his hands on my skin. Warmth spreads from my fingers, up to my ears and back down to my toes. It isn't an embarrassing warmth either, but slow and burning. A fire that rather be extinguished, needs more oxygen. Needs to keep burning. Brighter and brighter until it takes hold of everything I am and just… explodes.

"What did you say?" His voice is low. Lower than it has been before. It's a dark kind of low, dark and heated.

I didn't think I had said anything. I hope I didn't just say my thoughts or feelings out loud. "What?" I stand up and move away from him. His eyes look black, and his mouth hangs open slightly. _Oh, I want to taste that mouth._

"I thought you said something." He says, voice still gruff and deep.

"I don't think I did." I'm practically panting. I should be embarrassed, but I'm not. Not even close.

He takes a step closer to me. I don't back away this time. I want him to come closer. Right up until he's pressed against me. I want to rest my head against his chest and feel his arms create a protective shield around me. I want to grip his shirt and inhale his scent until the world burns.

"Tris?"

"What are you thinking about right now?" I ask boldly. "That's my question. Tell me, honestly what's on your mind right now."

His face gains a little more color, but he smiles. "You barely know me."

"So?"

"What makes you think I'm going to let you inside of my mind?"

"Your open personality, obviously."

His smile widens. It's not a full smile, not yet, but it's enough. The most I've seen him smile actually. He moves his face down so that it's even level with mine and whispers in my ear. "It's not something to be talked about out in the open."

A shiver runs down my spine. "Tell me anyway."

"Something that will make you blush." He answers and steps back.

"That's not fair." My voice cracks a little.

"I answered your question. That's completely fair. No one defined the rules." A smile still on his face.

I huff at him. "Fine. Ask your question."

He looks me over a bit, then his expression turns a little serious. "What were you doing at Dauntless?"

Crap. There it is. I find myself not wanting to lie to him, but at the same time, that's the one thing I can't tell him. However, I can maneuver my way around the question. I answer it truthfully, without giving anything away. Just like he did. Two can play at this game. "I was waiting for a friend."

His eyes narrow and his smile is completely gone. "Tris, you-"

"I seem to recall you said that no one defined the rules. I answered your question truthfully." While withholding the whole truth just like he did. Take that number boy.

Four rolls his eyes and makes a look of annoyance. "At three in the morning?"

I simply shrug my shoulders, a little smugly I might add. "I'll elaborate when you do."

He stumbles a bit. Sex talk embarrasses him. Good to know. But then he turns to me, another smile on his face. "I'll hold you to that."

An uneasy feeling rolls through me. But I try not to let it show. "Bye Four." I turn and begin to walk down the block. I don't look back to see if he's watching or if he left. I don't think I could take either. On the one hand, if he was still watching me, I would feel warm and safe. On the other hand, that would mean he's interested in my safety which is something I absolutely do not need. He can't get messed up in what I'm in. But then if he isn't there, I'm afraid I'll feel upset and disappointed. I can't let him control my feelings like this.

Now that he's a member at Dauntless he could easily come for more answers and find out my secret. If he hasn't already. _What was he doing outside of Dauntless?_ He could have been there last night and watched me dance. He may not have known it was me, but he must assume I'm associated with the place in one way or another. I can't have him digging where he doesn't belong.

And to have him show up on the guy's night of dancing? That was a little strange. Unless he was invited that night personally by someone who knows him. He doesn't come across as homosexual. But then it could have been a joke too. Eric would do something like that.

I freeze, two buildings away from my own. If Eric indeed did that, that would mean he knows Four, and if Four finds out I know Eric… he's smart enough to come to conclusions that are more or less correct.

I'm so screwed.

****Ooo some FourXTris interaction! Excellent... **** Please review!** **


	12. Chapter 12

****I am apologizing in advance for the length of this chapter. I know it is a lot shorter than some of my more recent chapters, but in my defense, I needed a little filler here, and I was sick ALL of last week. Plus, I didn't go into this planning on every chapter being some 5k or 4k words long. Just whatever felt right would go down on the chapter.**

**We're getting a little more into Christina's back story. Some Myra and Tris becoming friends. A little more FourXTris interaction - building tension is key! And some more asshat Thompson.**

**Plus I know this is a little late because I'm still kind of sick, so I'm gonna go ahead and post this, and get working on the next chapter! I have bits and pieces written out for chapters… I don't know, maybe somewhere in the teens? Anyway, this is right now.**

**As always, hope you enjoy!**

**Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing.********

**Tris POV - Sunday, November 23rd - Monday, November 24th**

Christina pounces at me when I walk through the door. She bombards me with questions about my _accident._

I begin to tell her about the strange feelings from last night, leaving out the drug bit, and how I was dizzy and the next thing I knew I was in the hospital. When she asks who brought me there, I pause. She picks up on the pause, and because she knows me so well, she hounds me. When I admit to her that it was Four, she freezes. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth hangs open. Then, slowly but surely, it turns into a psychopath worth grin.

"Christina." I give her a warning tone.

"Oh my God… Tris, do you realize what an opportunity the universe has kindly given you?"

"You're forgetting the part where my ass is owned by one of the shadiest guys in all of Chicago. If he found out I would be dead." I cough a bit more.

Christina ignores it, and she groans. "Come on Tris! Times are changing. Shauna and Zeke have been seeing each other for a few months now and they've never gotten caught."

"That we know of."

"Plus I've been seeing Will and no one has noticed. You're the only one who knows and that's because I told you. Tris, you're like the sneakiest of all of us. If anyone can get away with this, you can. I say go for it." Before I can answer she speaks again. "Oh and you have to meet Will! He's such a great guy, Tris I just want you to be happy!"

"What made you think I wasn't happy?"

She gives me the best glare she can manage while she's excited. "Besides Lynn, you're like the grumpiest of all of us. You need to loosen up. And who knows, I bet T.A. Four is good in bed."

"Christina!" My voice cracking at the end.

"And I expect details when it does happen."

"I can't believe I'm talking to you about this."

"Just saying." She says casually, then something catches her eye. "What's that?"

I follow her gaze and see Four's black jacket leaning against one of the chairs in the entry way. I feel heat buildup in my chest once more. "It's his jacket."

She snorts. "Well I can see that much. Why do you have it?"

My thumbs rotate around each other for a moment. I look down at the ground, not quite ashamed, but more scared of her reaction. "He may, or may not have walked me home."

"And you left this detail out why?"

"It didn't seem important at the time?"

"He likes you Tris. Oh my God! He's the one you were on the train with, wasn't he." It's a statement. Not a question. She doesn't need an answer because she knows she's right. Christina has always had killer confidence when it came to most aspects of life. Something I've envied about her, but has always gotten me into odd situations in the past. She claims that she makes my life more interesting.

"Tris if you don't do something about this I will." She threatens suddenly. The smirk on her face is menacing.

"Don't you dare." My voice has slowed down.

"It's gonna happen. Mark my words Tris. I'm calling it out right now. You and number boy will be together!" Then she jumps away laughing as she goes into the kitchen. I let out a small groan.

Everything is turned upside down now. It's not going at all how I had hoped. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's time for something to change.

As I sit there listening to Christina talk about boys, and Will, and school, and Dauntless and back to Will again, I can't help but let the thought cross my mind. _Maybe we could be normal young adults._ Christina did have a point when she asked about all of us running at once. What could they do? It's not like Max has an army behind him. Just his club managers and his lawyers. They have never lost a case, but then again, they have never had to deal with us all at once. What if we did do something about it? We would need to get everyone in on the plan. And not just those at Dauntless, but we'd need to talk to the dancers at Candor, Erudite, Abnegation and Amity. The Amity and Abnegation probably won't want to get involved, but that's when we make them. Oh, then we'd need to talk to the male dancers as well. Joy. As for the dancers in the Gutter, I have never been there and do know the first thing about it. Would we benefit getting them on our side as well?

But what would we do? Just get everyone to not go one day? It would get Max bad press and it wouldn't bring in money. Only, that doesn't feel strong enough for something this serious. We need something bigger.

"Tris? Are you even listening to me?" A plastic cup hits my head.

"Ouch!" I yell and jump from my seat. My eyes meet Christina's brown ones, and she doesn't look sorry at all. In fact, she's still smiling.

"Were you thinking about him?"

I glare at her. "No." Rubbing my head, not quite out of mock hurt. Christina can make just about anything feel painful if she puts her heart into it. "Why did you impale me with a cup?"

She shrugs. "You weren't listening to me. I had to do something to get your attention." She flips the dishtowel in her hands over one of her shoulders and puts her hands on her hips. "I was about to tell you I was pregnant, but that might have given you a heart attack." She laughs.

Yeah, that would have done it. But I prefer the cup method. Getting pregnant is an automatic transfer to the Gutter.

"So next Sunday night work okay for you?" She asks walking back into the kitchen.

"What about next Sunday?"

"Jeez you really weren't listening. I was asking if next Sunday night was okay for going out to dinner. I want you to meet Will."

My lip curves a bit out of an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I think I've had enough emotional conflicts over those of the male gender for a while. Christina knows me too well. She takes one look at my face and starts to frown.

"Please?"

Her voice lowers and sounds like it belongs to a child. Not just any child. A sixteen year old girl, helpless and alone.

"Fine. But no longer than a few hours okay?"

Her face lights up and she smiles wider than before. "Thank you Tris! You're the best friend in the world!" Her arms wrap around me as she continues to squeal words of thanks in my ear. Then she goes off into her room saying something about how she has to go tell Will.

Christina's backstory is different from my own, and yet similar at the same time. Perhaps that is what brought us together so easily. She grew up with just her mother and her younger sister, Rose in the northern part of Arizona. The only thing she remembers about her father is his funeral, and the pain of her mother's weeping when she found out she was pregnant with Rose just after he passed. Her mother worked two jobs while attending night school. Always dreaming of Christina going to law school one day. I know Christina would say no today about going, but it was her mother's dream. When Christina was fourteen, her mother disappeared. There was an investigation, but nothing came of it. Rose, being nine at the time came to rely on Christina. They had an aunt and uncle who lived in Washington so they were moved there. Come to find out that he was a drunk bastard and the aunt didn't do anything about it. Christina became the subject of abuse protecting Rose. She doesn't like to talk about it, but there was one really bad night, just before she turned sixteen where she ended up in the hospital. In a moment of selfishness as she sees it, she snuck out of her bed during a rush, passed the doctors and out the back door. Catching the first bus she could which was headed here, Chicago. Eric found her wandering the alleyways and offered her a job. She took it, and met me a month later. At first she liked Eric, we all did. He even helped her change her last name legally so that she would never be found. I don't know what her real last name is. I wonder if she even remembers. But she never looked back. Though I know she beats herself up over the fact that she left Rose there. I've asked her before if she wants to go and bring Rose here. She shuts me down and mumbles something I don't hear.

To see her happy like this, it's rare, and well deserved. After all, we all have regrets. She wants to see Rose again one day. On Rose's birthday every year, she buys a cupcake from the bakery around the corner and sits in her room, humming to herself a song I don't recognize. I don't bother her on those nights. Just like she doesn't bother me on the anniversary of my parents' deaths.

We are so messed up. All of us. Demons that no one else sees, and maybe it's for the best.

* * *

I sit with Myra in class on Monday. When we sit next to each other, Professor Thompson is less likely to pick on us in his perverted psychotic way. We find this as a little victory, and we smile.

Myra is a fairly quiet girl, like me. But she is insanely smart. She wears glasses when she forgets her contacts, and she hates them.

"There's nothing wrong with glasses." I tell her when we do group work. "My brother wore glasses, so did my dad." My heart clenches tightly and guilt fills my entire being, but I swallow it down.

She pinches her nose. "Beatrice."

I feel myself smiling when she says my full name, which she only does on occasion. She smiles back and we laugh quietly.

She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a case. Inside are the most hideous pair of pink and purple glasses I've ever seen.

"No way." I look back at her, my smile widening.

She nods with added sadness and embarrassment. "These were mine from High School. Specifically Freshmen year. I was going through a phase. And when I forget to bring my glasses," she points to the black and blue simple frames on her face. "Or forget my contacts, I pull out these and die of shame."

We laugh together and continue to talk.

"Beatrice, Myra, can I see you two up here please?"

Both Myra and I freeze for a moment. Our smiles disappear. Simultaneously we turn towards the front of the room. The rest of the class has turned too, but they turn back to their work just as quickly. Professor Thompson stands at the front desk and stares at us, waiting for a response.

Myra moves first, but we're both hesitant. I follow her lead and we both go to stand in front of him.

His eyes narrow at the two of us and he lowers his voice so that the rest of the class will have a harder time hearing.

"Do you both enjoy making a joke out of my class?"

"What?" We both ask at the same time.

"If you would rather talk like school girls rather than intellectual college students and get your work done, then please leave my class and don't come back." Myra doesn't notice, but I do. The vein in his neck is pulsing as he keeps his face stern and calm. His finger twitches with the pen he's holding.

"We already finished. Are you wanting us to just leave after we're done then?" Myra asks putting one of her hands on her hips. I know where her boldness is coming from. The whole campus heard about a professor in the biology department was caught over the weekend giving a thorough exam of the female body to a student looking for an A on her report. They're cracking down on harassment reports about professors more now, like they should. If Professor _Connor_ Thompson is unfair, or handsy, it would be easy to report him now and have them believe the accusation. She's daring him to do something. I admire that about her.

His eyes flick over to me. I smile at him and cross my arms over my chest. I haven't won the war, but I'll take this little victory for now.

"If you are finished you are excused." He says grumbling.

Myra and I smile at each other and go to grab our things. She is done for the day, but I still have one more class. A few of the other students who have finished grab their things to leave too. No one wants to hang around Professor Thompson too long. Not that I blame them.

We walk out of the building and down into the West Campus Courtyard. Filled with a small coffee shop, picnic benches, and a small field. It's a common place to come and study when it's nice out. Unfortunately today, it's raining. I don't mind the rain, not really. But sometimes it has an effect on one's mood to lean towards the depressing. The clouds are dark gray, though the rain itself isn't coming down very hard. It likely will later tonight. We're still under one of the overhangs from the building when a spark tickles my back. Someone is behind me.

"Beatrice."

Myra and I pause in conversation, and she looks back around to the new voice. I know exactly who it is. Myra I'm not sure. I look over at her reaction before turning around. Her eyes have gone wide, and a light blush covers her cheeks. Though to be perfectly honest, I think she looks a little more intimidated than enamored. I find it amusing.

I turn around slowly. Don't want to seem rushed.

"Four." I keep my voice as even as possible. Events and unspoken emotions from yesterday threaten to come flooding back. I can't let that happen here.

"I thought you had class right now."

"Finished early."

He doesn't say anything else. Just looks at me. His expression somewhere between frustrated and content.

Myra is still staring at him like a deer in headlights. He is rather good looking if I let myself think that. But I suppose, any good looking guy thrown into a situation with rain will look thrice good looking. He's wearing a pair of dark dressy jeans, and a white button up shirt with a dark gray sweater over top. Then there's his black rain coat obviously, but my eyes keep drifting to the bit of his neck exposed. Tanned and strong. How does he stay tan in the winter? _Perhaps that's just his natural skin color genius._ I wonder if it goes all the way down…

"Have you met Myra?" I say rather quickly.

Myra looks happy I included her, but also like she can't decide if she should stay and flirt like a girl with this handsome man in front of her, or if she should run for the hills because he looks like a war god.

Four's expression changes just slightly, but he didn't miss the change in my voice. "No I don't believe I have."

"I'm Myra." She squeaks. Then looks completely embarrassed.

He gives her small smile. "Four. Yes like the number." He says before she can ask. She doesn't reach to shake his hand. He does however tilt his head ever so slightly towards her. So much so, that something darker than his skin is revealed, on the back of his neck. He has a tattoo?

"Well I have got to get going. See you Wednesday Tris." Myra touches my shoulder and smiles. Then turns back to Four. "Nice to meet you." And then she walks away into the rain.

I don't look back at Four right away. Actually I begin to feel self-conscious if that's even possible. Someone in _my_ profession, being self-conscious. I tug on the edge of my navy turtle neck slightly, my hands ghosting over my raven tattoos, then shift my weight from one foot to another.

Four clears his throat lightly, and when I look at him, I notice that his cheeks are also slightly pink. I wonder if he went over our little conversation from yesterday as much as I did in my head last night. He practically admitted that he was thinking of something blush-worthy when we were alone together. My inner sexual goddess is dying to know what it is.

"About yesterday, I'm sorry." I say quickly at first, then quietly.

He looks up and his eyes meet mine. "Why are you sorry?"

"You were stuck making sure I didn't kill myself on my way home. Thank you by the way. I don't remember saying that."

"You didn't." He looks at his shoes, but then quickly looks back at me. "I mean, it's fine though. I knew you weren't feeling good, and then we talked." He's fidgeting like a new student in class. It's kind of funny.

The corners of my mouth turn up slightly. "Are you nervous talking to me Four?"

"No." He looks at me quickly and narrows his eyes. The fidgeting gone, replaced by a stone face. He's hiding. I'm familiar with the topic. "Yesterday was inappropriate and I wanted to formerly apologize for my actions." He says almost sternly.

"I took no offense. No apology is needed."

His look softens. "How is your breathing?"

I feel my chest tighten a bit. "Better. I haven't had trouble really since last night."

"Oh. That's good." He talks quietly and once again, his eyes look down at the ground, but more towards my shoes than his. It's a start. His top spare lip quivers a bit, like there's more he wants to say but isn't.

"What?" I ask feeling daring, and take a half step closer to him.

"What do you mean what?"

Answering a question with a question again. I roll my eyes mentally. "There's something more you want to say."

"How would you know that?"

"I'm good at reading people."

We stare at each other. I find myself hoping to watch his eyes dilate once more, to lose that light blue in the middle, and get lost in the black and dark ocean blue of his eyes. It just might become my new favorite color.

He takes a few deep breaths before any kind of sound comes out of his mouth. I see his fingers wrapped securely around the strap of his shoulder bag are twitching. Whether he's nervous, or anxious, or something else, I don't know. Yes I'm good at reading people. I have to be for my job. But with him I'm getting mixed signals, and have to take guesses. This time, I guessed right. I feel the corners of my mouth turn up in a smirk when he concedes.

"I think you should have let the doctors look at you yesterday."

Oh.

I take the half step back. He notices. Good.

I fold my arms over my chest now, keeping my anger at bay. It's none of his business after all. "I see. And why is that?"

"Well for one, you fainted in an alleyway at 3am, and couldn't stay on your own two feet without hacking up a lung yesterday. Something happened whether you know about it or not and I-."

"You what?"

He takes in another deep breath. "I am worried about you."

My breathing increases ever so slightly. "My well-being is not something you need to worry about Four."

"I know." He looks hurt in the tiniest way. But he keeps his face straight. "We should be getting to class." He says as soon as the campus bell tower rings.

Four brushes past me onto the path and out into the rain.

"Will you ever tell me what you were doing outside of Dauntless?" I turn and ask him.

He stops and doesn't turn to me. Just talks over his shoulder. "Only when you tell me what you were doing." I feel my stomach tighten. He continues to walk away from me, and I feel my heart beat slow down with each step he takes.

The bell rings again, reminding me I have to hurry to class.

I pull my coat out of my bag and slide it on. Stepping out under the spray like rain, I take a deep breath. More people fill the courtyard and I can't help but feel like I am once again being watched. I turn around and find a face in one of the second floor windows.

Glaring at me.

Professor Thompson.

****Please Review!****


	13. Chapter 13

****Okay... so one reviewer caught my attention. purplestar hater, I'm talking to you. Calling me a bitch and saying ****"fack you" and calling me a liar when it comes to updating... I'm confused. I don't mind being called a bitch for leaving you with cliff hangers, but saying I lied about updating? I did update. So what are you talking about? No I didn't update by adding a chapter to the end of the story like your typical update, but I did update all my chapters slightly, and I DID ADD A NEW CHAPTER, just not at the end. Chapter 7 was totally new. The original chapter 7 is now chapter 8 and so on. Thought I explained that in my Author Note 2. So I don't know what your problem is, but get your facts straight before you go calling someone a bitch. Okay?**

**Now for everyone: extra extra super long chapter guys and gals, readers of all ages. Over 7,000 words! Holy cow this took me a long time to write, edit, and then rewrite again. Haha such is the life of a writer. Anyway, don't have much of a note for this one. Hope you enjoy as always.**

**Let's get to know the new girl on the team!********

**Tris POV - Monday, November 24****th**

I don't really know the dancers who dance on these nights. It's a variety of age like our group. Some look sixteen while others look closer to twenty-five. I don't bother to learn their names and they don't bother to learn mine. But they do know who I am. They look at me with cold eyes and frowns.

Eric finds me waiting at the back door for the new girl, Cherry. She's supposed to be here sometime within the next half hour. The first show will begin in ten minutes. I've taken a look out at the crowds just for comparison, our nights get twice the numbers for sure. But I won't brag about something like that. That's not exactly something worth being proud over. I wonder if the other girls know.

A few of the girls bump into me on purpose. I just brush them off. All these girls are destined for the Gutter someday, just like our group is destined to transfer to one of the other clubs _before _the Gutter. Yay us.

Peter is being his usual pissy self, nose to the clipboard when he's not looking down our bras. He smiles at me when he passes by, but goes on to harass one of the younger dancers. She looks scared, maybe seventeen years old. I'm tempted to tell him to knock it off, but she needs to learn to grow a backbone in this business.

A shadow suddenly hovers over me. "Hey Raven."

"Hey Al." I say as he sits down next to me.

"What are you doing here tonight?"

"New girl. Needs to be shown around." My voice is casual.

He doesn't look surprised when I tell him. What with Cara leaving and all. I wonder if it's unhealthy for us to be this calm about this kind of situation. It probably is.

"What's her name?" He asks looking down at his hands.

"Cherry."

He snorts. "Great."

Does Al ever think about leaving this place? I doubt he and other technicians are in the same chokehold that the dancers are in when it comes to leaving. Still, I wonder what he thinks about it.

"Listen, Raven, I know that we only know each other as dancer" he gestures to me. "And techy" back to himself. "But I would like to get to know you. I feel like I don't know anyone here, not really." He actually sounds saddened by this.

I turn and look at him oddly. "What are you asking exactly?"

He looks a little flushed in the face and a little nervous. His hands fidget in his lap. "What's your name? Real name I mean." Oh.

I watch him through narrowed eyes. It wouldn't really do any harm to tell him. We just never asked before, yet we've known each other as Al and Raven for four years. Maybe it's smart to befriend him. Rather him than Peter anyway.

"Tris." I say to him.

He looks up at me, a growing smile on his face. "Tris." He repeats.

"That's not my legal name, but it's a nickname all my friends use. I don't think I want to give my full name. Not in a place like this."

His smile grows wider. "I get it. I'm Albert. Al is also a nickname but doesn't really hide my real name."

"You don't look like an Alfred." I say as kindly as I can manage. When I think of Alfred, I think of a stuffy old man with a hunch in his walk and a gruff voice. Practically the polar opposite of Al; short dark brown hair and wide blue green eyes. Though he looks like he could life a dump truck, he's extremely gentle in nature and actually rather quiet. He's not bad looking either, but I don't know if he could pass for a dancer. I wonder if he ever tried…

One of the girls interrupts my thoughts. Obviously one of the braver looking dancers, she flaunts her body in front of us at her station and puts on an excess amount of perfume. I try to hold back cough, Al doesn't. She looks a little offended when he coughs. Then she eyes him once more and walks off. He looks oblivious. I just smile.

"Who was that?" I ask, watching her walk towards the stage. She's tall in her heels and has a very nice ass for a Dauntless girl. Her wig is flaming red and her outfit makes her look like a dominatrix.

Al looks back to the girl who just left. "Puma."

A laugh escapes me before I can control myself. Al smiles and looks away from the stage. "She certainly seems interested in you." I nudge his side with my elbow when I can control myself.

He actually blushes and looks a little concerned. "No… No she's not into me that way. Not her. Oh god." He puts his head into his hands and groans loudly. This earns another laugh from me. "She's terrifying!" He whines.

"She was giving you quite the eye before she left."

Al looks annoyed. "We are not going to talk about this or even acknowledge that it happened."

I hold back another laugh and just smirk. "Whatever you say."

He gives me a little smile. "I like when you laugh. I don't think I've ever heard it."

I turn and look back at him curiously. True, I don't allow myself many freedoms to laugh, but that doesn't mean I never do it. Right?

The lights dim suddenly back here and on the stage. It's about to begin. The music starts off slower than I'm used to, but soon picks up. The cheers aren't nearly as loud.

A knock at the door startles me for a second. Glo is up at the front entrance tonight so no one besides me is all the way back here. At least it's locked. Eric would be furious if anyone broke in, and Peter would lose his shit if the back room got trashed.

"I think your student is here." He nods towards the door. I stand up and pull it open, having to dig deep with what strength I have. It's a heavy door.

She is pretty, just like Eric said. She will bring in new guys and tips too. _Why am I even thinking this as a good thing?! _She stands with her arms at her sides, a black low cut scoop neck top and jeans. She is smiling at me with probably the whitest smile I've ever seen. Her hair is long, curly and golden. Considering my hair is also naturally blonde, hers would be a perfect ten on the hotness scale while mine a lowly three. Very curvy in the hips and bust. I groan internally as I think of the transformations currently overtaking my own body. I have noticed a slight difference since Saturday night. My breasts are a little fuller and my hips sore as heck.

I motion for her to come in, and shut the door behind her.

Al stands too and rather close to me. I never felt uncomfortable around him before, but now he's close. Very close to me. I can practically feel his breath on the back of my neck. But it's not in a creepy stalkerish way like Thompson. More like a protective body guard. I'm not sure I like it either way.

I take a step forward and extend my hand to the girl. "I'm Raven."

"Marlene." She says nervously taking my hand.

"Not here you're not. Your name is Cherry in this compound, and you will only answer to Cherry while here. No one can know your real name when you're in this profession. Then they get creepy and follow you around."

She cocks an eyebrow. "Are you speaking from personal experience?" Her tone is bold. Maybe she's not so shy after all.

"We all have bad experiences here." I add quickly and quietly, not wishing to divulge into the details of my unprofessional relationship or lack thereof with Thompson. She seems to pick up on the sound of my voice and the underlying message. She doesn't push the topic.

I stare at her for a minute, trying to size her up, in a noncompetitive way by any means. But this allows me to take a step away from Al. I circle her once, to get a good idea of some things she could wear. Part of this introduction process is to help her pick out outfits that would be good for her for the first week. She probably won't fit into Cara's old Dauntless clothes since she is much curvier than Cara. Shoes she could probably fit into.

"What size are you?" I ask.

"Six in a dress. Six in pants and D34 in bra." She blushes slightly noticing that Al is still nearby. But he doesn't look phased. He's seen and heard all of this before.

"How about shoe?"

"Seven." Cara's size. Perfect.

"Alright, follow me." I turn back to Al as Cherry started following. "This is Al by the way. Lights and technical stuff is his area."

Cherry smiles kindly at him, but with a glint in her eye. Al actually takes a step back, mumbling something about needing to go set up the blue lights for the third act.

"You seem to have a way with guys." I say as soon as he's out of earshot.

She shrugs. Much more comfortable now. "I am when I need to be. Honestly though, guys scare me. I'm fine around them, but some of the things they do is just plain weird."

"What kind of guys do you hang out with?"

"Odd ones. Mostly I hang out with a pair of brothers. I've known the youngest one for a long time." She smiles fondly.

I halt abruptly. "Let me stop you right there. In this job, you are not allowed to have boyfriends or even guys you're interested in. In this job, you stay single and make the client happy."

She looks a little startled at my outburst. Then her look turns neutral. "I know that. Eric more than explained it to me in my interview." She almost growls his name. "A girl can dream though, just not out loud."

"You'll fit in just fine." I smirk at her.

I take her on a tour of the compound then. I show her the rafters, Al's station, storage rooms, the private rooms under the main floor, the zipline, the tank and the cage.

"What's the point of the cage?" She asks nervously.

"If you do something against Eric or Max or break the rules then they can put you down here. You dance, with no pay, chained up. And if you don't deliver, you get a beat down and a one way ticket to the Gutter."

"The Gutter?"

"Another one of Max's clubs. It's where all the washed up, pregnant, or disobedient dancers are sent to perform and work until they die, disappear, or go to jail."

She cringes.

"You're in this for life Cherry."

We begin our trek back up the stairs towards the dressing room when she asks, "How did I wind up with the most cliché stripper name?"

"One, we're not strippers. That would imply taking our clothes off. We're dancers. Slutty dancers, but dancers. Call it private entertainers if it makes you feel better. And two, Eric decides the name of the dancer."

"Okay, but why did _I_ get Cherry?"

I shrug. "Probably because you look like a virgin."

She gawks at me. "I am not a virgin. Do I really look like one?" She almost sounds angry now.

"Well, when I first met you, you looked innocent and smiley. Now that I know you a little better, I can assume better."

"So you're saying that if I had just been a little meaner in my interview I would have gotten a better name like yours?"

"Probably."

We reach the dressing room when the dancers are leaving for the next act. Some do complete wardrobe changes. It must be a pain. We almost never do that.

"This is the dressing room as you can see."

A few of the girls glare at Cherry on their way out. On a rare occasion, a girl in this dance group can make it to our side, but most of the time not. So when a girl is hired immediately onto our dance group, it can cause some uproar in their group. One girl tried to break my nose when I first joined. She had been in the other group for four years and made it well known to Eric that she wanted in on our group. Then Christina gets hired as well and she threw a fit. She was sent to the Gutter a week later. Glo is the only girl I know who started off in this group who moved to our group.

There are three main racks of clothing and outfits in the room. Two on the opposite ends down the length of the walls, and one down the middle. There is a large set of drawers at the end of the room. One drawer per dancer. Min is on the top, second from the right. They have our names on them. The newly printed "Cherry" label is one down and one to the left of mine. I open my drawer to show her what would be in there. Inside are multiple pairs of underwear, a few pieces of jewelry, some bras, stockings and extra makeup that's not at my station. Shoes are on the shelves above these drawers. Same deal for finding which shoes are yours, except these are cubbies rather than drawers. Again, mine is in the top row, second from the right. My black boots are at my station because I wear those the most. But in my cubby, I have a few pairs of heels in blue, purple, red and black. And one more pair of boots in red. I hardly wear those; special occasions only.

Cara's shoes are still in her cubby that is not Cherry's. They will work until she gets some new shoes. The racks of clothing on the other hand are also separated by dancer, but not in cubbies. But by color. Each dancer has a colored hanger to signify their clothes. Christina has the most because she bought some of her own. Her color is red. Mine is dark green. Everything on a dark green hanger is mine. I think I have a total of twelve outfits, which is like the bare minimum. Lynn is the only other girl who has that many. Everyone else is in the twenties at least. Christina might be in the thirties.

Cara's color was yellow, which will be Cherry's now.

"When an outfit is dirty, you put it in the laundry shoot by the door, and Peter is responsible for the washing." He hates it. I think it's hilarious.

"Who's Peter?"

"Officially, the Stage Manager. He's Eric's top guy for making sure we're dressed and on stage on time. He collects the money at the end of the night and counts all of it." I lean in quietly. "But he's also a creepy ass guy. Be careful around him. He has the tongue of a snake and the bark of a sociopath."

Cherry cringes a little, but quickly makes herself stable again. She'll do fine here. Controlling ones emotions can be the hardest thing to learn on this job.

"How did you get your name?" She asks as soon as we leave the room.

I move my shirt down and out of the way. "By having these. Eric asked me what they were, and I told him they were Ravens."

"What do they represent?"

"What makes you think they represent anything?" I ask defensively.

She smirks. "No one gets a tattoo on their collar bone unless they're stupid, drunk or it has meaning. And I don't think you're stupid, and you don't strike me as the type to get drunk and make a decision like that." I've been drunk and stupid before, but never drunk enough to get another tattoo.

"You're smart. Hold onto that, but don't always let it show." I say and move out into the stations area. They'll pack her up and send her to Erudite. She follows me, another question falling from her lips.

"So what does it represent?"

I sigh. "My family, okay?"

"What do you-"

"I'd really rather not talk about this." I say quickly cutting her off.

Cherry backs off.

I walk over to Cara's old station. It's clean and the drawers are empty. "This is yours. Keep your makeup, basic accessories, wig and one pair of shoes up here."

"Wig?" She asks looking a little frightened.

I smile. "We all wear wigs to help conceal identity."

"Does Eric pick them out?"

A laugh escapes me. "No. We get to pick them ourselves. After the tour here I take you to the parlor to pick out a wig and then get the tattoo."

"Oh right." Her voice trails off. She looks down at the ground, obviously nervous.

"It won't take that long." I try to reassure her. "Promise."

"I know. It's just, well I was raised thinking that getting a tattoo was a sin."

"You Catholic?"

"Christian. Well, I mean I was raised Christian. I don't completely agree with everything that we were taught but my parents were very against tattoos."

"_Were_?"

She looks at me funny. "What?"

I turn and face her. "You said your parents _were_ very against tattoos. As in past tense."

"Oh, yeah. My parents are dead." What a coincidence.

"A lot of our parents are dead here." I say calmly.

"Yours too then?"

"Mine too."

She pauses, then pipes up. "I mean, I don't exactly know if my parents are dead, but as far as I know they are. I'm adopted." Oh. "So I have no idea who my real parents are or if they're alive, but I know my adoptive parents are dead."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. They died when I was eighteen. I was already on my own."

"Any siblings?"

"None that I know of. I would have loved to have a sister though. I grew up surrounded by boys." She sounds annoyed. "What about you?"

"I have a brother." I say quietly.

"What's his name?"

"Caleb." Why am I opening up to her so easily?

"And where is he?"

"New York. Maybe."

Cherry gives me a sympathetic look. "You don't want to talk about him do you?"

"Is it really that obvious?" I ask sarcastically. She laughs, and it makes me smile. At first glance, she is a total girly girl. Practically a well-endowed Barbie. Bright blue eyes and perfect blonde hair. I'm surprised Eric didn't give her that name, Barbie.

"So, now I get a wig?" She asks, now sounded excited.

"Yes. Do you have a car?"

We leave the building and walk into the parking lot where her cherry red Honda Civic is waiting for us. She takes a moment to look at it, frowning. "Do you think Eric named me because of my car?"

I just laugh, and so does she.

The parlor, Sketch, which is just two blocks away, knows all of Max's girls, but mostly the Dauntless girls. They're the most likely to come back for a second, third or fourth tattoo. Or even a piercing every now and then. Shauna had a lower lip ring for about two years, but then she lost the ring and never replaced it.

Entering the parlor makes the door ring. The floor is black with red splattered paint and the walls are black and white tile with large chunks of mirror in random areas. The whole ceiling is mirror. Loud music plays from speakers in all corners of the building.

Gaston works the front. He's late twenties, with a black goatee and a gray fedora. He has more ear piercings than I can count.

I walk to the counter where he stands reading a comic or magazine. He doesn't look up when I approach, and barely flinches when I clear my throat.

"Gaston." I say firmly.

He looks up, and takes a moment to register who I am. "Raven." He says quickly. I keep my eyes hard. I'm not wearing my wig, but the people who work here and know us are sworn to secrecy not to reveal who we are. He's the newest guy working here. Max is the co-owner of this company so they risk getting fired if they blab, or worse.

"New girl needs a tattoo and hair. Rita should be expecting us."

"Yes of course." He says fumbling with the computer to his left looking up our appointment. He phones something, I'm assuming to Rita and motions for us to go to the back private room. "What's the new girl's name?" He nods towards Marlene.

"Cherry." She answers before I can. Embracing her new name with a sultry smile. Gaston looks uncomfortable once again.

"Thanks." I say to him quietly. Remembering the manners my parents raised me with.

We walk passed a few stations with people getting pierced or inked. We even get one wolf whistle. Marlene doesn't blush, but I do. She must be used to that kind of thing.

Back behind the purple curtains and through Rita's office is her private station. She sits at her desk reading over a file on her computer. Her eyes reach mine and she smiles.

"Raven. Good to see you again." She moves to hug me. I hug her back. Rita is one of the tallest girls I know, standing somewhere between 6'4" and 6'6". She has strong shoulders, and a killer smile. Tattoos all up and down her arms, a spider web on her neck, and a nose piercing. She always has on bright red lipstick, and her black stringy hair is up in chopsticks. One purple streak runs through her hair, though today it's almost completely hidden.

"Good to see you too Rita." I offer.

She smiles over at Marlene. "You must be Cherry."

Marlene just nods. I understand why. I was intimidated when I first met Rita's brother Randle who looks very much like a male version of Rita. He is the one who started this place. Rita took over Sketch when Randle took a desk job by Max's side when Max invested money into this place. He was the one who did my tattoos and Christina's. I've never had a tattoo done by Rita. Lynn came in with one six months ago on her inner thigh, some anchor design. It looked good to me.

"Well come on girls, let's get Cherry ready for the ball." She walks into the private studio, then Marlene, then me. A single chair and artists stool sits in the middle of the room. All her equipment on the table. The closet off to the side holds the wigs.

We go there first.

"What style or color would you like?" Rita asks looking at Marlene, whose eyes have become wide with how many options there are.

"I like your hair." Marlene says to Rita. "Black and purple together."

Rita smiles. "I think I have one that will work for you." She walks over to a box in the corner of the room and digs out something wrapped in plastic. It must be a rare one. I remember when I came here I just picked a black wig, asked for it to be in a ponytail and was on my way to getting the tattoo.

Rita pulls away the wrapping and reveals a curly wig with bangs. It's mostly black like my wig, except it has purple streaks throughout. She beckons Marlene over and places it on her head. I can instantly see why it's special. It doesn't call for her hair to be tucked into the wig, rather just rest on top of her hair. This way, her natural hair will show through the black and give it new dimension and an exaggerated ombre effect. It looks good on her.

"It's a pretty loud hair piece so you'll have to keep your outfits and makeup from overpowering it. Otherwise it'll be hard to look at you. You have a nice face, I think you could pull it off." Rita says showing Marlene to the nearest mirror. "I'm sure Raven could help you out with picking them out." She smirks at me.

Marlene gasps out loud, then she smiles. "I love it!"

"Sold then." Rita smiles. "Now for the tattoo."

Marlene's smile dies a little, but she holds a firm expression.

Rita notices this just as quickly as I do. "Have you ever gotten a tattoo Cherry?"

"No."

"Then this should be quite the experience for you." Rita walks into her private parlor and motions for Marlene to sit down on the chair. She does nervously. Then Rita leaves for just a moment, coming back with a giant stuffed pink gorilla. "This is Congo. Want to hold him?"

Marlene looks a little skeptical, but reaches for the animal anyway. As soon as Rita gets the needles ready and tests the gun, Marlene squeezes the life out of the stuffed animal in an instant. It lets out a loud squeaking noise, causing Marlene to jump off the chair. Rita just throws her head back and laughs.

I let myself smile a little as I sit in the corner on the small couch. Its plush and purple, much too extravagant for my tastes and a bit too bright. But it is comfortable. It came with Rita when she took over. When Randle worked here, he had some black stools over against this wall. They were always covered in with his newest sketches for tattoo designs. He would then print them on glass squares and hang them up against the orange back lighting in the lobby. That was how I found my ravens.

Tori said once that she thought about being an artist. She always liked coming here for more. I wonder if she ever wanted to do tattoos.

"Comfy Raven?" Rita's voice breaks my train of thought.

"Fine."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

She smirks. "Alright. Wouldn't happen to be a boy would it?"

I stiffen. No I was not thinking about Four but now I am thank you very much. And he has a tattoo! What if he got his here?

"You know the rules Rita. I'm not allowed to think about boys."

She shrugs her shoulders. "True, but you always seemed different to me. Rule breaker and such."

Marlene picks her head up. "Rule breaker?"

"It's nothing." I say quickly glaring at Rita.

Rita laughs. "Another time Cherry."

It's really nothing. Christina and I got absolutely wasted a year ago and I came in here apparently pretending to impersonate Max. Luckily it was 4 in the morning so only Rita was here. I walked in with my chest puffed out and slurred my words. She got quite the kick out of it, but promised to not say anything to Max for us. Because Max's Angels aren't supposed to be getting that out of control. We would have been punished and put in the cage otherwise. Randle would have turned us in. It would have meant a raise for him. That's why Randle joined Max in his office, more money.

The needle begins to hum. Marlene lays down on her stomach, her shirt is rolled up and a piece of tissue paper sticks out of the back of her pants. She hugs Congo the gorilla tightly under her chin.

"How long will it take?"

"Hour or two." Rita says pulling on her gloves and situating herself on her stool.

Marlene closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

As soon as Rita begins on Marlene, I can feel my own Dauntless tattoo begin to sting. I'm not a particularly fond person of tattoos, but I know why people can find them appealing. It's a good kind of sting, even though it feels hot and sore right away.

Marlene doesn't even wince.

"This isn't that bad." She smiles suddenly. Rita smiles too.

I know that a lot of the girls don't mind the tattoo process. They don't fear the needle. Cara was the only one who ever mentioned really hating it. The ones who don't say anything probably hate the needle but don't want to say so. We the Dauntless girls, we're supposed to be tough. Brave.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. Blocked number.

_Who's the new girl?_

_**Who is this?**_

_You're answering a question with a question ;)_

_**So?**_

_Snake. The dancer._

An image of the man in tight red scaly shorts from a few Friday's ago comes rushing back to my mind. The one with the snake tattoo behind his right ear and a contagious laugh. I smile.

_**How'd you get my number?**_

_I'm sneaky_

_**Apparently so.**_

_So who is the new girl? I saw you and Rita walk back with her._

_**You're here?**_

_I'm getting another tattoo _

_**What is it?**_

_Dauntless flames on my ribs._

_**You guys didn't already have a Dauntless tattoo?**_

_We dance at every club remember? We're not going to get every symbol on our bodies._

_**Right. Well that's cool.**_

_I'm almost done, but I know I'm not supposed to interrupt initiation. __ So who is she?_

_**You know I can't tell you her real name.**_

_Fine. What's her stage name?_

_**Cherry**_

_Ouch_

_**Exactly**_

"Who are you talking to?" Marlene's voice picks up.

"One of the male dancers. Apparently he has my number."

Marlene grimaces. "That's creepy. Is he nice?"

"I think so. I've only talked to him once."

"What's his name?"

I smirk. "Snake."

Marlene reddens. "Oh god." Then she starts laughing. "And I thought my name was bad!"

My phone buzzes again.

_What are you girls laughing about back there?_

_**She thinks your name is bad.**_

_I'm hurt. I love my name and embrace it to my full potential. _

I snort.

"Do you like him?"

I look up at Marlene startled. She looks genuinely curious.

"I don't' mean to intrude, but the way you're laughing and smiling… Do you like him?"

I shake my head, still smiling. "Not like that. Not that we're even allowed to like boys so don't go getting a school-girl-crush." My tone gets a little harsh and Marlene puts her head down a bit. I soften my voice. "He's just a friend. That's it."

She nods and smiles a little at me.

When she's finished, Rita puts the wrap on her and gives her instructions on how to wash and what to be wary of for the next few days. I don't think we have to worry about intense sunlight for the next few weeks.

Marlene and I walk out after that. I don't see Snake anywhere. He must have left.

"Wait!" She says halting in her steps. "I want another one."

I must be looking at her like she's crazy, but shrug and follow her back in.

Gaston is more attentive this time at the front desk. "Back so soon?"

"Cherry wants another tattoo."

He looks at her and smiles. "What size?"

"Small." She says.

Rita walks out of the back then. "You're back?"

"Cherry wants another tattoo." Gaston repeats to her what I told him. Marlene is smiling. Rita smiles with her.

"Alright, come on back."

This one goes by quicker. Marlene wants a tattoo of a cherry on her rib cage. I roll my eyes.

By the time we walk out, it's near one in the morning. Gaston has shut down the front and all the station inside are clean. Rita walks us out, laughing and chatting with Marlene. The two of them really hit it off during the second tattoo. Same favorite color, same favorite animal, same taste in music.

We say goodbye to Rita after she and Marlene exchange phone numbers. She waves after us and we walk to the parking lot.

"How are you getting home? Do you need a ride?" She asks as she unlocks her car.

"I'm actually going back to the diner. It doesn't close for another two hours."

"Oh." She says. She looks down at her feet like she's mulling something over. "Do you need me to start tonight?"

This actually surprises me. "You really don't need to, but I suppose if you want." I pause thinking for a moment as we get into her car. "We don't have a uniform for you yet. Not until Wednesday."

"I thought I was starting tomorrow just like dancing?"

"No, just dancing tomorrow."

She starts the car. "Okay. I'll come along and observe what you guys do. What is my position gonna be exactly?"

"Waitress. Just like me, Christina, Lynn, and Shauna."

"Aren't their other girls who work at the club? Don't they work at the diner?"

"No. Tori and Lauren are security. Molly isn't trusted with customers."

"But Tori's a dancer I thought."

"She is. But while we work at the diner, she works at Max's headquarters as extra security."

Marlene shrugs. "I feel like she would be good at the artsy stuff."

A mental picture floods my mind of Tori in one of her dancing outfits, a white over coat, beret, and a paint bush between her teeth. I choke back laugh. Marlene doesn't notice.

We pull into the diner not long after. It's not very busy right now which is expected.

Christina smiles at us as we walk through the door. "You're the new girl huh?"

"Cherry." Marlene says shaking Chris's hand.

Christina laughs. "We go by our real names here, not our dancing names."

Marlene pales. "Wouldn't someone recognize us?"

"They're not allowed to call us out as dancers here or anywhere else in public, otherwise they get thrown out of the club and have to answer to Max and one of his guard dogs." I say calming her down.

"Oh."

"You can go by a nickname here though if you want." Christina offers. "Just let Everett know back there."

"Everett?" I groan.

Christina nods. Everett is not a very nice guy. He's quiet when he watches us, but whenever we leave the building or go in the back, he has a habit to be handsy. Reminds me a lot of Edward in that sense. Last week Everett nearly jumped Lynn as she was leaving Dauntless one night. But Lynn was smart enough and strong enough to knock him off before anyone noticed. We could report him to Max, but we don't. None of us want to appear weak.

"I smell a new girl." Lynn's voice carries over to us. "So what's your real name?"

Marlene looks shocked at Lynn. It's understandable, though she is very pretty with an athletic figure, the buzzed head and ear piercings make her look intimidating. Much to my surprise, Marlene instantly says "You're really pretty!" Chris's mouth drops open and Lynn's eyes go wide. A light blush covers her cheeks and she begins to stammer.

Marlene just smiles. "I'm Marlene. Though a lot of people just call me Mar, Marley, or Marni."

"I like Mar. Marley sounds too close to your real name. And Marni isn't sitting right with me." Christina says.

Lynn shrugs and smiles, which is really odd. "What Christina thinks is good usually goes."

Marlene shrugs. "I don't pick what people call me. I just go with it." Then she smiles again. "Mar it is."

Christina smiles suddenly. A wide smile. Like she knows something she shouldn't. I look at her curiously, and her eyes flit between Lynn and Marlene for a moment. I glance at Lynn, who is still staring at Marlene. Hmm…

"I'm Christina. But you can call me Chris, and don't you dare call me Tina."

I hold back a smile, remembering when people have tried to call her that before, even just at school. She hates it. I've called her Tina when tipsy before, and since I'm such a lightweight, Christina would end up getting me drunk and hide the advil the next morning.

Lynn is still staring, not saying anything. "This is Lynn." I offer.

Marlene smiles.

"And her older sister Shauna is over there currently serving fries and a burger to Mr. Creepy over there." Christina points out.

"Mr. Creepy?" I ask.

She shrugs. "He came in eyeing every girl in here like they were a meal, even the ones just eating at the booths. So I took the liberty of dubbing him Sir Creepy."

"Sir, now?"

"He looks kinda like an old version of Prince William. Don't you think?" Christina is rambling now.

I roll my eyes.

I get Marlene's attention and pull her back by the counter. We go behind the bar and stop in front of the cook's window. "Back behind the counter are Matthew and David. They're our cooks."

David glances up and grunts. Matt actually looks up and makes an effort to smile at her. Of course he would rather see all of us out of here and Max dead in a ditch. He would never admit to it. "New girl huh?" Matt asks.

"Marlene. But it sounds like I'm going by Mar now." She says casually.

"Nice to meet you." He says then goes back to work.

She follows me into the locker room. "Does he know about what we do?"

"Everyone who works here knows."

Marlene stays silent and her smile drops.

I walk to the row of lockers on the back wall and pull open Cara's old locker. Marlene's name is not yet printed above it. "This is yours. Your uniform will go in here along with extras should you get dirty on the floor. You can put anything in here really. Not even Eric will go through them. They're our personal lockers. Most girls keep photos or makeup in here. It's completely up to you what you want."

"I thought Eric didn't want us to have any freedom." She quips.

"If you tighten a leash on a dog to the maximum, all it's going to want to do is run. Give it a little room and it's more likely to stay."

Marlene studies me hard. Her eyes narrow, and a crease forms between her brows. She really is quite pretty to look at. I can see why Lynn couldn't stop staring.

"This is a lot like my old work." Marlene says looking around as I change into my uniform.

"Where did you work?"

"A bakery."

I snort. There are a million bakeries in Chicago. "Which one?"

"Cake'n Shake, down off Pillar St. Famous for chocolate cake and shakes." I've never been there, but that's near The Nook, the Erudite coffee shop. "I'm surprised actually that my boss allowed me to leave so suddenly. I didn't get the chance to even give a two weeks' notice."

I turn back and look at her. "That is odd." Then a thought hits me square in the chest. "What was your boss's name?"

"Carlos Santana."

A shiver runs down my spine. Max didn't pick Marlene on accident. Carlos Santana is one of Max's goons. One of the guards that sits in on our work at the diner, but more commonly works as security at the front of Dauntless. Max found Marlene, because she works at one of his shops, only this one was unknown. How many more does he own? How many more girls are at risk of getting picked up into this lifestyle?

"You okay Tris?" Marlene puts her hand on my shoulder. I flinch.

"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about a few things."

She looks at me troubled, but seems to let it slide. I walk back out onto the floor, waiting for the 2am rush, when bars and clubs are close to closing time, lots of people come here for an early morning snack.

"Tris." Matthew stops me for a moment and hands me a honey and oats granola bar, my favorite. "You need to eat something. You look pale, plus I don't think you had dinner."

I turn my head and glare at Christina. She's looking at me slightly guilty and shrugs her shoulders. She knows I didn't eat much today. I've been skipping a lot of meals lately and she knows it. I just don't feel very hungry any more.

I take the granola bar and take a bite. Matthew doesn't move. "I need to see you eat it all. I'm worried about you." I try to push past him, but he doesn't budge. Grumbling, I finish it off and drink some water with it. My stomach turns and growls with appreciation.

He lets me past then. But he doesn't smile. I don't either.

Shauna walks passed us and brings a plate of fries and a sandwich to Everett. He mumbles a thank you to her and watches her ass as she walks away.

The rest of the night goes by fairly fast. Marlene sits at the counter and watches us work. Christina's Sir Creepy leaves after licking his plate clean, literally. She brings the dirty plates to Matthew with her face turned sour. He is reluctant to take it.

Marlene waves goodbye to us with a smile still on her face. Lynn still watches her intently. Christina smirks. I roll my eyes. What a night.

****Please Review!****


	14. Chapter 14

****Hey all! Sorry for the long wait, but I am currently in the middle of my finals and will be done by next Wednesday! SO EXCITED FOR THIS SCHOOL YEAR TO BE OVER! Anyway, I haven't updated in a while because my computer crashed and I lost all my information including this chapter and the next two chapters. So I am forced to rewrite it all. I did manage to keep an early version of my chapter outline so I still have a good idea of where I was going with the plot. Please hold in there, because I will finish this story!**

**Forgot to mention: but last chapter was the longest I had written for this story! I considered turning it into two smaller chapters, but then thought screw it! I will give my readers a big chapter! But that is a rare occasion for me to go over 7000 words, so consider yourselves lucky ducks.**

**Tris POV – Tuesday November 25****th**

I'm more tired than I should be and I know it. I got plenty of sleep last night, finished my homework, and felt fine this morning. But something is off. I can feel my lungs get heavy the slower I breathe. But I don't really need to worry about that right now seeing as I'm sprinting through the obstacle course George has set up for us today. Christina is right behind me. It's not a race, but if I can't continue, I step out of the way. We keep going through the course until all but one has dropped out.

Christina and I are always in the final five.

It's down to seven of us now. I reach the end of the course and catch my breath for just a moment, waiting for the person ahead of me to finish the first leg, and then I blast in. Halfway through this round, I see that three more have dropped. Christina, myself and the two fittest guys in the class are the only ones still going.

"Five more minutes. Anyone still going will be required to stop and we will have a tie breaker." George calls out looking at the giant clock on the wall incased by metal.

I want to finish strong. Always finish.

My lungs are heaving, and Christina drops out. She looks like she's about ready to pass out. One of the other girls runs to get her some water.

"We gonna have us a tie breaker!" One of the guys yells to the other. I try not to focus on my lungs, and rather on this first guy's carrot red hair.

"Hey, if girly can take it, I'm all for it!" The second yells back. I ignore them and keep going. Keep pushing. Keep breathing. I'm going to be sore tomorrow and tired tonight but I don't care.

"Time!" George yells out. I'm the first girl in ten years to go the whole time through the course without extra resting periods. It earns me a cheer in the crowd. But if I stop moving, I'm going to collapse.

"What's the tie breaker?" One of the guys asks, sounding like he's nowhere near out of breath.

George looks over the three of us and smiles. Then he nods over to the far corner of the gym. A fireman's pole is the only thing there.

Christina, color now coming back to her face, slaps a hand over mouth to keep from laughing. _He's not going to ask us to pole dance. _I glare at her. She seems to understand and shrugs still inwardly giggling. At least, I hope they don't.

"Each of you get a turn." He nods to the three of us. The two guys are elbowing each other like it'll be easy. Unfortunately for them, they don't know that I hold onto, and climb these things for a living. It's an unfair advantage, but right now, I just want to win.

Everyone in the class walks with us over to our tie-breaker destination. Those who have caught their breath now are joking about who will win. The guys clearly seem to be in a more stable physical state than myself upon first glance. I don't blame them for thinking they'll win. It'll be so much better to see their faces when I beat them.

"I'll time all three of you. You have to make it to the top and back down in order for the time to count. Or you could forfeit." George says.

The guys brush him off, still in a joking mood. The pole is about four inches in diameter, and possible three stories high. I have to control my smirk. This _will_ be easy.

"Ladies first." The second guy offers to me. I shrug.

Standing at the base of the pole looking up does make it look a little intimidating, but I can do it.

"I'll start timing as soon as your feet leave the ground, and stop as soon as they touch the ground after you reach the top."

I nod. "I'm ready." I crouch down slightly, then, without warning, launch myself up the pole. One hand after the other, climbing higher and higher. It feels too easy. My arms don't protest until I'm almost to the top. My breathing is steady, rhythmic, as though I were just standing on the ground watching. I ring the bell at the top quickly, and am soon on my way back down. Sliding slightly, but not too fast. Don't want metal burns.

When I land on my feet, the majority of the class is cheering for me. Christina is the loudest. My two competitors suddenly look a little unsure.

"Excellent time Tris. That's very close to the all-time record set a few years ago." George writes down a few things on his clipboard before resetting his watch and turning to the two boys. "Who's next?"

"I'll go." Guy number two, _I should probably learn their names to be polite,_ goes first. Guy number one is staring at me in a funny manner.

Guy two gets set at the bottom of the pole, and tries to launch himself up like I did. He's visually slower than me, and ends up losing a few feet when he loses his grasp near the top. Everyone looked worried at first, but he eventually made it up. Rang the bell and came back down, red in the face.

George takes down his time and says nothing. Just smirks. A few of the other guys poke fun at him for being obviously slower. George made an effort not to damage guy number 2's pride by not reading the time out loud.

Guy number one gets ready then, finally taking his beady eyes off me. Didn't bother me in the slightest. I've seen beadier.

He jumps the pole and begins a mad dash up. One arm after the other. Some guys cheer for him. I try to look indifferent. But I really want to win.

He rings the bell and comes flying back down to the ground, a smile on his face.

George grins widely as he writes down the time. "This was a close one guys. Well done to all three of you. Third place goes to Bailey." Okay, guy number two is now Bailey. And I beat him. I smile a little and clap my hands with the rest of the class. Bailey seems to laugh it off, accepting his fate.

"And first place, beating second place by just six tenths of a second, goes to Miss Tris Prior."

All of the girls cheer immediately. A few of the guys look at me with impressed faces and clap. Guy number one is angry.

"Meaning second place goes to Drew." The red haired boy stares at me, his shoulders are tense. He's staring at me, not like I just blasted a gaping hole in his ego, but rather like an enemy that needs to be removed. Any normal girl would feel threatened by the stare, but I know them like the back of my hand. I stare right back, and it makes him angrier.

Drew stomps out of sight into the locker rooms. Only a few people notice. Christina is one of them.

"Watch out for Carrot Head. He doesn't like you very much." She warns me once we've showered and changed back into our regular clothes.

"Carrot Head?" I ask giving her a look.

She shrugs. "Don't you think he looks like a carrot? Especially when he's mad.

"I can handle him." I say as we walk out of the building.

Christina laughs. "I don't doubt that! But still, you do tend to attract and piss off really creepy guys. I mean like the _really_ creepy ones. Like Edward for one."

"He hasn't been around lately, which I don't mind at all. It's just odd." I say suddenly feeling a touch of worry for him. I shouldn't be feeling this way at all, but it's my upbringing. I care too much.

"He's been to Dauntless almost every night we're there." She says matter-of-factly.

"I know, but I mean he hasn't been around me. He used to be obsessed with me."

"Someone's full of herself." Christina winks.

My face hardens, even though I know she's only teasing. "Your words not mine. I'm only repeating what you observed over the last year."

"I know. Jeez Tris take a joke." She nudges my shoulder. I'm tempted to nudge her back, but we've played this game before, and she'll end up punching me to win.

We approach Christina's next class and she waves goodbye to me. Inside waiting for her, is the same guy as last time. He takes her hand in his, and they disappear deeper in the building together. I decide I'm happy for her.

The Pit is mostly empty when I arrive. Shauna is bussing a table and Matthew looks like he's juggling potatoes. I change into my uniform and grab a fresh pad of paper for orders.

There's two more customers when I come back out. One of them, sitting in the corner by himself, and thankfully in Shauna's section, is Thompson. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't get up to be near me. He just stares. It's one step short of predatory.

He eats quietly, and leaves a generous tip for Shauna.

The main crowd doesn't show up for another hour or so. And Christina comes in an hour after that.

"Class run late?" Matthew mocks her behind the counter. I take a quick glance and see that her cheeks are red, her hair is tousled, and her lips are swollen.

She can only manage to growl. "Shut up." Then punches his shoulder.

"Where is my favorite lady?!" A friendly voice shouts into the diner. I roll my eyes and watch as Shauna lights up.

"Zeke keep your voice down." She laughs as she goes out to greet him.

He takes a seat front and center at the counter. "I just _cannot _contain myself." He says rather dramatically, then pretends to swoon when she passes him a glass of water.

Then he sees Christina.

"Christinnaaaa…." Smirking like a mad man. "Nice hair you have going on today."

She throws a rag at his head.

"Why do you insist on harassing the staff?" Another familiar voice asks from behind Zeke. My hopes had gone up that Four had been with him, but instead, I the male dancer that looks exactly like a copy of a taller, younger Zeke.

"Uri lighten up."

Shauna laughs. "Hey Uriah." So Snake does have a real name.

He sits down next to Zeke smiling. "And who might you be?" His eyes bore playfully into mine.

We stare at each other momentarily, both thinking the same thing. Play it out as strangers. "Tris." I point to my nametag. "Nice to meet you." Apparently no one knows that we've met before, on the backstage of Dauntless. Everyone looks normal.

"I'm Zeke's younger, much more attractive brother."

I just hum to myself while I'm cleaning the counter. But a smirk plays at the corner of my lips. Christina waists no time in noticing and begins to hum her own tune. _Tell Me Something I Don't Know_ by Selena Gomez. It's the song she hums whenever we're in public but she has a secret she wants to talk about. She smiles looking between Uriah and me. I roll my eyes.

_Uriah,_ I've never heard that name before, but it suits him. Even for a dancer.

But wait! Zeke and Four were there that night at Dauntless too! They must have seen him. So they must know about Uriah…

"Where's Four?" Zeke asks suddenly looking around like a lost puppy.

"Parking the car." Uriah says suddenly grinning.

"We were parked when you and I got out."

Shauna shrugs. "Maybe he doesn't like us."

Uriah's smile widens. "That's not it."

Zeke then leans in to us girls. "Pay no attention to my brother if it pleases you. He's a bit of an airhead and completely fully of himself. Little bit of a womanizer and a _frighteningly_ good dancer." Yep, he knows. "Don't watch his hips or you'll be done for." Definitely knows.

Zeke _would _be the guy to tease and encourage his brother in this business rather than worry for his safety. Unless Uriah left that part out.

Uriah only smiles at Zeke's exclamation.

"Behave." Shauna says smirking. "Usual then?"

"Yes please." He says taking a sip of his water.

"What about you Uri? Anything in particular sound good?" She asks sliding him a menu.

"I'll have whatever Zeke is having, with bacon."

I can't help but smile.

Zeke is frozen in place and the door opens.

"You got stone face to smile!" Zeke yells happily to Uriah, who is still looking at me intently. I'm starting to wonder if it's just an act or not. Though I'm leaning towards yes.

"Stone face?" I ask still smiling.

"Well, we don't usually see you laugh or smile as much as the others. Except for Lynn of course but she's a whole different category."

"I think she's rather pretty." Uriah says teasingly. Now I know he's playing along.

"Really now?" I ask leaning across the counter to him. Zeke looks astonished. "What about me is pretty?"

"Your hair for one. Golden, full, and it looks very soft. If frames your face nicely, and makes your cheeks and lips look even more naturally pink. Your eyes are like a storm on the water. Silvery blue. Or maybe a winters morning in the woods."

I'm actually very taken back by his words. No one has ever described me like that. Not even at Dauntless. Guys hitting on me use simple words like _hot, beautiful, sexy, nice piece of ass, temptress, slut, _the list goes on. But I can't remember the last time when someone has taken the time to look at me, and describe me as though I were an expensive painting on display.

A chair tips over and causes a clanking sound throughout the building. We all look up and see Four next the chair, having just regained his balance, he hurries back out the door.

"Is he okay?" Christina asks suddenly standing behind me.

"He does that sometimes." Zeke says, his voice a little confused. "I don't think he likes crowded spaces."

"He's been here when it's packed full and seemed fine. Well, as fine as a guy like him can seem." Christina says.

"Tris?" Shauna's voice reaches me. That's when I realize that my feet have carried me towards the door.

I turn around, somewhat flustered. "I'll be right back." And I'm out the door.

He's standing over by the street pole on the edge of the parking lot. Watching the traffic go by from what it looks like. The sun has already entered its twilight stages, and there's a cold wind blowing through tonight.

"Are you okay?" I ask nearing him.

His shoulders tense at my voice and it's a little disconcerting. "Shouldn't you be working?" His voice is low.

I cross my arms across my chest in frustration. "When are you going to stop answering a question with a question?"

"When I like the question." He snaps.

A large sigh escapes me. "I'm just trying to be friendly you know. You don't need to push everyone away like they're lepers. It's okay to let people in every now and then. Not to mention it's healthy."

He turns to look at me. "And if I don't want to let anyone in?"

"Then have fun being alone for the rest of your life. Zeke is a good guy and obviously a great friend to you. Hell, he acts like a brother to you more than a friend most of the time that I can see."

"Why do you care what happens to me and the choices I make?" He raises his voice, as though I've wounded him. Like the only way he can regain control is by barking at me to make himself feel better. There's a look in his eye that has the potential to be scary, but I don't back down. I never back down without a fight. Boo-hoo for him if I hurt his feelings trying to make sure he's okay.

"I don't know. Maybe I just don't like to see you in pain."

He takes a step back, shocked by my answer. Though his face is so unreadable sometimes that I don't know if this was a good admittance or bad. I can feel embarrassment begin to flow through my chest, down my arms, and up my neck.

Four's face softens just a little the more he watches me. My eyes are trained on him, no matter what color my cheeks are.

"Tris."

"Yes?"

"This should stop."

This takes me by surprise, and a little by confusion. "What should stop?"

He nods at the space between the two of us.

"Use your words Four. I'm not a mind reader."

But he doesn't speak. Not about what he just motioned to. Us? He wants us to stop? Stop what? Is there even an _us? _I give him another minute to say something. But he just looks down at the ground with a hard face once more. I can feel my anger increasing.

"You seemed happy in there." He says and I feel a weight drop in my stomach.

"Happy?"

"With Uriah. He's a nice guy."

I take a step back, and can't tell if I should be smirking or gaping. "Are you jealous Four?"

"Why would I be jealous?" He snaps once again.

Yep. Definitely jealous.

A smirk plays at my mouth. His cheeks turn red.

"You know you're right." I play along to this game. "Uriah seems to be a really nice guy. I haven't met a nice guy in a really long time. Plus he's Zeke's brother so that's automatically a good thing. He has a nice smile, and he seems interested in me. Don't you think?"

Four's mouth is set in a tight line and his eyes are burning.

My tone lowers just a little. "Just because Uriah makes me smile, doesn't mean anything is going on between us." I add in quickly. "I just met him."

"But something could happen." He says.

"I suppose. Unless someone else that makes me smile asks me out first."

He looks up at me.

"Tell Zeke and Uriah I'm not hungry. I'll be in the car." He turns on his heel and walks away, his shoulders hunch.

My smirk disappears at his childish attitude. "Grow up Four." I huff after him. I know he hears me, but he doesn't say anything back. Not that I'd stick around to hear it. I turn my back on him and walk back into the building. Everyone is going about their normal business. Only Uriah really notices my return. He looks at me like he was watching the whole thing. A slightly confused, yet sympathetic look on his face.

"What was that about?" He asks me as he picks at his fries.

"Nothing. He was, I mean. I don't know."

Uriah leans in. "Some friendly advice. Four doesn't open up to many people, and the few people he does open up to doesn't happen overnight. But if you poke, prod, and piss him off enough, he'll let you in."

"I'm not sure I want to be let it." I mumble to myself.

"Keep trying Tris. Trust me on this." He smiles kindly, not at all like earlier when he was putting on a show for everyone else. "I like your name by the way. What's it short for?"

"You have to promise not to call me by my legal name if I tell you."

"Sure." He shrugs.

"It's Beatrice."

His smile doesn't falter. In fact, it widens. "It's nice. But you're right, Tris suits you better."

"I didn't say Tris suits me better."

"You didn't have to. I'm an expert at reading people." He says leaning back as though he just succeeded in solving the biggest case on earth.

"Modest much?"

"Never." His smile becomes a smirk. "Now I hear you have cake."

A small laugh escapes me. "Yes we do. What kind would you like?" I point to the large menu behind me, advertising our small selection of cakes. Chocolate, Vanilla, Red Velvet, FunFetti for kids, and the special of this month, Pumpkin.

"Chocolate for sure."

"That's our most popular cake." I say as I walk over to the kitchen.

Matthew picks his head up, having heard the request and slides a slice on a plate across to me.

"Matt?" Uriah picks his voice up.

Matthew glances up and waves at Uriah smiles, but doesn't say anything.

Uriah nods and waves back. They must have met when Matthew was still a dancer.

"When did you start?" I ask casually as I set the cake in front of him.

"Fifteen." He says knowing exactly what I'm asking. "You?"

"Sixteen. You know Matt?"

"He stopped the year after I started."

"Must have been right before I started."

"Sounds about right." He takes a bite. "This is absolutely wonderful." His mouth brimming with cake. He stuffs another bite in and starts to look like a chipmunk.

I can't stop the laugh in my chest.

"Did you give him cake?" Zeke asks across the diner. He moved to a booth and was now talking one on one with Shauna.

Christina looks over at Uriah's fully face and chuckles. "Fabulous."

He ends up ordering another two pieces, and Zeke breaks down and has one too.

"I gotta tell you Uri, this cake competes dangerously close with yours. It might even top it."

Uriah looks insulted. "How dare you Zeke? I'll admit this is excellent cake, but it doesn't compare to my masterpieces."

"You make cakes?" Lynn comes in to the scene smirking at him.

"Sure do." He looks rather proud. Lynn rolls her eyes and mumbles something unintelligible.

"Do you work in a bakery?" I ask him.

He nods his head. "Cake'n Shake. The one off of Pillar St."

A cold shiver runs down my spine. "Really?" My voice shakes. "I've never been there."

Uriah catches onto my uncomfortable state. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just, I think I met someone who was talking about it or something and it. Never mind." I shouldn't be the one to tell him about Marlene. They must have known each other. But it's not my place to say.

"Tris."

"I said never mind." I say a little harsher than I should have.

He looks a little concerned, but doesn't push it.

I spend the rest of the day with my head down. No one asks me what's wrong. I don't care. Zeke and Uriah leave after another half hour, and Marlene shows up minutes after. What a coincidence. She offered to help out at the diner even though she won't start in the Pit until tomorrow. But it is her first night of dancing.

We're here for another two hours before we head off to Dauntless. Christina helps Marlene, _Cherry_, get ready. Lynn offers to help, which is way out of character for her, but they accept it.

Eric calls me in as I'm getting ready and hands me a second shot of the series. I could feel my chest swell slightly as I inject the liquid. My hips hurt a little more, but my head wasn't nearly as fuzzy. I hand the needle back to him and walk out.

Since it's her introduction night, she won't open the act with the rest of us. She'll be introduced over the loud speakers and shown off in front of everyone sometime around midnight. I can tell she's nervous at first, but she does well to hide it after watching our calm resolves.

Tonight's theme is Dominatrix. Everyone wears thigh high black leather boots, and leather corsets with a little variation. You have to be able to tell us apart after all. My little variation is a scarlet red ribbon that ties my breasts in at the front. It looks like if you pull at it, my boobs will just fall out, but they won't. I also wear a black choker with studs, and ruby red lipstick. Half the girls get leather gloves as well, I'm one of them. Mine are fingerless, but black.

The music begins, and we take over.

****Please Review!****


	15. Chapter 15

****Thank you guys so much for sticking with me and this story! It's turned out to be so much more than I could have ever hoped for!**

**To address some reviews (cause I didn't last chapter :O )**

**Feigningintrest – Thank you so much for alerting me to the timeline mishap! I have gone in and fixed it! At least I think I've got all of it. If I missed something please let me know haha.**

**Soxgirl58 – I'm sorry you found some of the bits in my story not so interesting **** my goal as a writer is to entertain people with a good story and plot line. But I have been known to perhaps make some dryer areas a bit longer than necessary. However, I felt they were all important to the story progressing so I am keeping them. After all, no matter how hard a writer tries, they can never please everyone! I hope you continue reading!**

**SalvatoreStoleMyHeart – I am not sure if having a relationship with a TA in college is legal or illegal, but if you noticed, they are not in a relationship… yet! Haha. But if something does happen… we're gonna say it's legal just for the story's sake**

**Quick shorter chapter here. I wouldn't necessarily call this a "filler chapter" but it wasn't initially on my game plan for this story. Now I think it might add to Four's story line and where I was going with it. I'll stop talking now.**

**And it's FOUR's POV! **

**OH! And don't freak out since the story says 15 chapters instead of 17. I deleted the Author's notes. It was time to take them down. Toodles!**

**Four POV – Tuesday November 25****th********

I don't get jealous. I might brood and be what Zeke refers to as a "party poop", but that's it. Seeing her flirt with Uriah only irritated me because I know what he does for a living. He shouldn't get to flirt around willingly with her. Of all the female population in the Chicago area, why did he have to pick _her_? No, I'm not jealous. I would have needed to mark my intentions, or at least have her to be properly jealous. Otherwise, it just looks like I'm a wannabe stalker. I don't get jealous.

Watching Tris and Uriah interact as they did almost made me think they've met before, but that's not possible. Uriah practically sleeps during the day and lives at night, unless he's working at the bakery.

But there is one thing that just does not add up. Uriah works at Dauntless, so shouldn't he know better than to go after a girl like Tris? Not that she couldn't handle herself, because I'm sure she could, but she seems so innocent. Then again, that night that Tris collapsed in the Dauntless parking lot raised a lot of questions. I know she couldn't have been there to see Uriah dancing because he was at Zeke's that night. Maybe she was watching the girls dance? More likely she was watching other guys that I don't know about dance.

My face heats up again.

I'm not jealous.

"Hey sour puss." Zeke climbs into the car. A takeout box in his hand. Chocolate frosting on his upper lip.

"Where's Uriah?"

"Still inside."

"Doing what?"

Zeke's upper lip curls into his lower, like it always does when he's reluctant to tell me something. Not to mention he's looking at his cake box with great interest. "Saying goodbye."

"To Shauna?"

"Y-yep." He draws out his words. A sign that he's lying. "Here he is."

Uriah walks up to the car door and hauls himself inside. He's also carrying a cake box, and a smug smile.

"Hello and thank you for waiting." He hands his box up to me. "I thought you might want some cake Four. You didn't eat anything in there. In fact, you were only in there for a minute. Everything okay?"

I don't take the box. "I'm not hungry."

"Clearly." Uriah takes the box back. "You sure that's all? I mean, you looked a bit upset as you stormed out of there."

"I didn't storm."

Zeke snorts. "You were thunder on a clear day dude. What's going on?"

I will my face to remain a normal color. My fist grips the steering wheel harder. "Nothing. Let's drop it." And I start the car.

As I pull out of the lot, I can hear both Zeke's and Uriah's phones buzzing ever so often. One of them laughs, then the other's phone goes off. Then they laugh, and the other phone goes off.

"Seriously?" I groan.

They both stop what they're doing.

"You're texting in the car, to each other."

"Not much escapes you Four." Uriah smirks. My eyes harden at him through the rear view mirror. But his smirk doesn't go away. I've known Uriah too long to not scare him anymore. Damn.

"Why don't you just talk out loud?"

"Didn't think you'd want to hear what we were saying." Zeke says shrugging. "You kinda seemed like you wanted to have some quiet for the time being." His lip curls again.

"You're lying Zeke."

He hangs his head. "I hate that you know my tell. That's why we're never playing poker again."

Uriah laughs. "We're talking about the girls at the Pit Four. Do you want in on the conversation?"

No. But I don't give a verbal answer.

Zeke goes on anyway. "We were talking about Shauna to begin with. Uri was asking when I was going to _hit that_, and I told him that I already had." His smile widens. "Then I asked him what he thought about the other girls."

"And I said that I thought Christina was interesting, but I'm pretty sure she already has someone."

"How could you tell?" I ask, sounding more interested than I meant.

Uriah shrugs. "Something about how she was acting around my advances. She was a little more reserved even though she clearly has a more outgoing attitude." Then his smile matches Zeke's. "You can really tell a lot about someone when you make moves on them. See how they act under pressure and stuff. It's like your own personal game."

"That is ridiculously brilliant." Zeke laughs. "And what else did you learn?"

"Lynn is a stick in the mud, like always, but there was something different about her. She almost seemed, to be in a kind of glow before she knew I was there.

"Then there was Tris, now she was interesting." He smiles. I want to punch it off him, but I keep my eyes on the road and my grip on the steering wheel. We're almost to my apartment anyway.

Uriah continues. "Tris was quiet and definitely reserved, but she's got something to hide." My interest peaks. And damn it, Zeke noticed. He gives me a knowing grin, but doesn't say anything in front of Uriah. I force myself to relax, but it doesn't last long.

"That girl has got some kind of secret that must be earth shattering. She changed into a playful minx in an instant that I came onto her."

"And Shauna said that has never happened before. You must be special Uriah." Zeke teases, looking almost directly at me.

Uriah does a dramatic sigh. "But not as special as Four here. She went charging after you as soon as you left the building looking like a kicked puppy. She was so concerned about you that she was able to put a halt to my advances and went to help you instead."

I can feel my chest inflate just a little.

"How well do you know her Four? Cause you two seem a lot closer than you've let on." Zeke says, still smirking.

"I'm her TA. That's it."

"And he brought her to the hospital when she was sick." Uriah says suddenly.

"What?! When was this!?" Zeke jumps out of his seat.

"How the Hell would you know that Uriah?" I ask, my voice rising.

"You're not denying it! Why did I not know about this?" Zeke collapses in on himself and seems to have some kind of bro-code melt down.

"Revealing my sources would betray their trust." Uriah smiles in his seat.

"We are going to talk about this Four." Zeke states with a hand over his face.

"No we're not." I said as I pulled into my apartment's lot. "I've got stuff to do."

"Four, don't you dare leave this car without an explanation!" Zeke yells as I exit the vehicle.

"Bye Zeke." I walk away towards the door and quickly open it. I can still hear Uriah laughing in the back seat.

But how could Uriah know something like that? They both have Dauntless in common, but he wasn't there that night. Perhaps someone who knows them both saw me? But that would mean that the third party knows me as well. And Zeke and Uriah are the only ones I know who are associated with Dauntless.

That does leave open the possibility that there are other people I know are associated with Dauntless and I don't know. Not that it really is any of my business.

I hear Zeke and Uriah drive away shortly after. Those brothers will probably be the death of me one day.

Not five minutes after settling in for the night, my doorbell rings. I really don't want to answer it, but I'm naturally curious.

There was no one I could see through the peephole in my door. Probably some kids playing a prank. But I hear it again two minutes later. A small growl grows in my throat as I wrench the door open, about ready to tell the kids to get lost, when I see something at my feet.

A box. Wrapped in brown paper, and a red bow.

Confusion aside, I pick it up tentatively and bring it inside, but not before looking around the parking lot for anyone who could have dropped it off. The card taped under the bow with a number 4 on it stilled my thinking that this was meant for someone else. Seeing as there is no number four in the building, it must have been for me. The thought made me nervous.

Nothing else was written on the card as I pulled it out. Just the number.

I unwrapped the box, and found a gray bound book inside. The pages were bulky and covered in plastic. A photo album?

Opening the front cover, an inscription stops everything in my life.

_Baby's First Moments_

_Name: Tobias Marcus Eaton_

_Birthday: October 30__th__, 1991_

_Mother's Name: Evelyn Mae Johnson_

_Father's Name: Marcus Alexander Eaton_

And underneath was a photo of a woman, with dark hair and shiny light blue eyes. She was smiling, crying, and she held a small white bundle in her arms. The caption said,_ Mother and Baby._

Holy shit.

I flip to the next page, and see more pictures of this woman, Evelyn, and the white bundle that is apparently me. My father, if he even deserves that title, never talked about my mother. He said that she abandoned us less than a year after I was born. That she was selfish, and tried to kill herself just to get away from us. I never even knew what she looked like. Of course if I could access my memories from that first year of life, I'd know, but that's not possible.

The next page has pictures of my father holding me. He looks stern, but also happier than I've seen him in a long time. The next few pages are pictures of me in various onesies, in a crib, on the floor, and with my mother or father. There is never a picture of them together. I'm not surprised.

Then half way through it cuts off. There is a series of four pages that have no pictures.

The next picture I see is of my mother, but she's older. Her hair holds hints of silver, her eyes crease, and her smile is forced.

The picture after that is me, at age 15, walking home from school. She's been following me.

The next one is the day after my 17th birthday. I know because I have two black eyes. Marcus was not happy that day.

The next two pages are filled with pictures of my High School graduation. I don't think I've ever smiled so hard in my life. It was a huge event for me. It meant freedom. I was 18 and it wouldn't look abnormal for me to move out of Marcus's house.

My first place sucked. It was run down, leaky and had very thin walls, but it was a ground floor room.

The next page is my first year at the University. And the page after that is sometime between my third and fourth year. Then my graduation.

The very last page has four pictures. The first is me moving into this very apartment. The second, is me leaving Amar's office on campus. The third is me and Zeke at the Pit. And the fourth is Tris and I talking after her visit to the hospital. It was the moment that I got lost in her silvery blue eyes, listening to her heavy breathing. And she asked me what I was thinking at that moment. I didn't tell her. I wanted to. I wanted to spill everything right then and there. That I secretly think about her when she's not around. Hell, I've even dreamt about her, and not in the most gentlemanly way either.

So focused on my feelings for Tris, I almost miss the note taped to the back of the book. It's handwritten, and scribbled almost beyond reading.

A phone number. And it's signed. _Mom._

I don't want to call. I want to hate her for leaving me. She must have left because she knew what happened to me with Marcus. He must have beat her too when she wasn't good enough. He told me she was dead so many times and in so many different ways that I stopped believing him and just came to my own conclusions.

One thing I do know for certain, is that he did love my mother at some point. He offered to marry her, but in his version of things, she declined so it would be easier to run away. He still had the ring last time I was in his house, hidden in a crack in the wall behind his bed. He'd deny it's existence whenever I asked, but I would always go check to see if it was still there when he wasn't around. It always was.

Why does my mother want me to call now? After all this time, she's only _now_ reaching out to me?

She knew where I was every second of my entire life judging on this book. She could have contacted me, or at least let me know she was alive. Let me know that she loved me. But she didn't.

I ball up the paper, and toss it into the trash can. But I leave the book where it sits on my counter.

I'm not ready to face that yet.

****Please Review!****


	16. Chapter 16

****Aight peeps! here comes Chapter 16. I know a lot of you have requested more FourTris, and trust me, I want it to, but the writer in me needs to build it up the way I see best. There is some FourTris in this chapter though!**

**Also, side note: updating may not happen in the Month of July. I will try to update when I can, however July is the month of Camp NaNoWriMo! And for those of you fellow Nanos out there you know that it means buckling down hard core and punching out a novel of your word count choice in 31 days. I am actually opting to edit the novel I wrote last year for Camp NaNoWriMo, but it will still take up a lot of my time. Please be patient with me. Like I said before, I have every intention of finishing this story, no matter how long it takes. **

**Big plans are made here. Hope you like!**

**Tris POV – Thursday November 27th****

"Delivery for you Tris." He smiles leaning towards me.

"Thanks." I groan and turn to walk back inside.

He grabs my arm. A little rougher than necessary. "I'm under orders. Need to watch with my own two eyes and make sure you follow through. It's very important to this experiment Tris."

I want to sock him in the face.

I take the cap off the needle he gave me and lift up my shirt just a bit, exposing my pale skin to the chilly air. It smells like concrete and rain out here, one of my favorite combinations. The red and orange leaves flying by against the dark gray sky help distract me from the point of the needle penetrating my skin. I push the mixture in, and remove the point. It stings. More than the other two. I lose my balance for just a moment and lean against the building.

He just smiles at me. "See ya Saturday Tris. Happy Holidays." He's such a snake.

Pushing the door open with my shoulder and stalk back inside the Pit. Christina gives me a funny look. "Why was Peter out there with you?"

"Doesn't matter." I say avoiding her onslaught of questions sure to come.

My heart is heavy and my stomach is growling. Thanksgiving used to be one of my favorite holidays. Time with family, no school, and the food was always the best. I would wake up those Thursday mornings and my chest would swell. My mom always told me my smile was infectious. She would have pancakes and sausage waiting in the kitchen and the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade on the television.

Today is still Thanksgiving, but it's so different than my childhood. The day is cold, windy and it's dumping outside. The weather report said it's supposed to drop below freezing tonight, likely freezing the roads for tomorrow and havoc for the early morning Black Friday shoppers. I was never a fan.

One good thing though, is that today is one of the only days of the year that Dauntless is closed. No one really wants to watch sexy pilgrims dancing with the smell of turkey in the air. Indians maybe, but it's not really our theme. Maybe Amity?

It's not really the best night for tips either. Because it's Thanksgiving, and entering the stages of a pre winter storm outside, not many people come in. We don't normally get more than thirty or forty on Thanksgiving. Last year we only had twenty.

And we're lucky too, since tonight is a night of dancing for us. So we get an extra day off.

The little food that we do serve tonight is almost all Thanksgiving based too. Sure we still have our normal menu available, but tonight we also serve pumpkin pie, turkey burgers, and a Thanksgiving platter of a turkey leg with mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans. Or you could upgrade it a double platter and get more turkey.

Another reason we all like this night so much, is that the Pit will close like any other dancing night, at 10pm, and every one of us, waitresses and cooks sit down for a small Thanksgiving dinner of our own. Except this night, we get to close an hour early.

Matthew gets two turkey's set aside for us, and they cook all day. I'm in charge of my mom's famous gravy and my dad's fluffy bread rolls. Shauna makes the mashed potatoes. Christina is in charge of vegetables. Lynn sets the table and usually makes the pie for us, but this year, she has Marlene to help. Since Marlene has worked at a bakery before, it all fit. Lynn was blushing immediately after Marlene offered to help. They'll make three pies this year: pumpkin, chocolate, and apple.

Zeke doesn't show up tonight, much to Shauna's disappointment. Neither does Four.

As it gets darker outside, the whole building smells more and more like a family dinning room. The lighting is bright, but not turned up all the way. There are some autumn decorations spread out left over from Halloween. It's warm, and everyone is smiling as we work. It's calm, and relaxed without being overbearing. It makes me miss my parents even more. Even Caleb crosses my mind. I hope he's okay.

"You okay Tris? We're ready." Marlene walks up to me smiling. Lynn isn't too far behind her.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Everyone knows it's a lie. No one says anything.

We close the doors to the public and set the table for ourselves. Max's guard dog of the night, Jackson, leaves us to our food. David leaves too, grunting about one thing or another. Matthew sticks around. He wouldn't miss this for anything.

Everyone is sitting then. Staring at the food. We never feel comfortable enough to pray before eating, but it also feels wrong just to grab at the still steaming food.

My mother and father always insisted that we pray and give thanks before every meal. Especially this one. I don't feel much like praying these days.

"We could go around and each say something we're thankful for." Shauna offers.

Everyone nods, but no one starts.

Matthew takes over. "Okay, guess I'll go first. I'm thankful for my stable job, my friends, and my newly lowered rent." He smiles.

We all smile, and a few chuckle.

Christina is thankful for her iPod.

Lynn is thankful for her health.

Marlene is thankful for all the new friends she's made here.

Shauna is thankful for Matthew's cake cookies.

I'm thankful for getting the chance to celebrate Thanksgiving in general. And I don't need to elaborate; everyone at the table knows it was a big family holiday for me.

At any other get together, we would normally all dig in and just grab at anything we saw. But tonight we're gentle, a little reserved. Until Christina brings out some Smirnoff Vodka. She's laughing maniacally after one shot. Lynn is the shots champion currently. She's the exact opposite of a light-weight, like me. I'm not a heavy drinker, and compared to the rest of us, I'm a child. Shauna avoids the alcohol completely which I find odd. Normally she takes at least two shots to loosen up. She blames it on a sour stomach. Marlene gives Lynn a run for her money though and surprises all of us by taking three shots in a row, and then asking for more a half hour later, looking as though she hadn't had any. Matthew does one and then is done. Designated driver. I take two shots myself, grimacing each time the burning poison goes down my throat. I preferred it with a Sprite chaser.

Matthew sets up a game of darts on the front door. We all take turns trying to stick one of the little magnetized pins onto a picture of Eric's face. I always win this.

Shauna pulls out a deck of cards to play some games, and Christina cuts off the alcohol after Marlene goes to throw up. Lynn is still champion.

It's nearing midnight, and I get the feeling that most of us are wanting to go take advantage of extra sleep. Except for Marlene and Christina that is. They want to do some Black Friday shopping. Every year Christina tries to get me to go with her to the stores, and every year I refuse. She's gotten Shauna to go once or twice but Shauna has now learned her lesson about shopping within a specific time line with Christina. She's a little crazy. Thankfully we discovered that Marlene loves to shop just as much as Christina.

I asked her to pick up a new bra for me. Mine is beginning to feel too tight, and it turns my stomach. She gave me an odd look when I asked, but didn't press the issue.

"Getting tired Tris?" Shauna asks sitting down beside me.

"I'm always tired." I say back.

We're sitting on the bar stools watching the others begin to calm down. I can see Matthew taking extra glances over in our direction. It's not a predatory or any means. Just protective. Matthew has been like a surrogate big brother to me since I've been here. I know he doesn't like any of us girls as more than a friend. He's still holding onto his dead girlfriend from before I knew him.

"I think I'm going to leave."

It comes out so quietly that I almost miss it. But it brings everything in the room to a silent halt. Everyone's eyes turn to Shauna.

She doesn't hang her head in shame. She doesn't look afraid. She looks tired.

"What?" Christina's voice hikes.

"I've been giving it a lot of thought. And I want out. Permanently."

"They'll kill you." Lynn says frantically. "Then they'll probably kill me too. Who will watch over Hec then?!"

"He'll come with us." Shauna begins to sound more confident. "We can all go. A place where Max can't get us."

Matthew looks astonished. "And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

She actually smiles. "We could just leave."

"Shauna, Max would come after us. He would send his people after us. He has a freaking army of guard dogs willing to do his every wish." Christina moves in close to Shauna's face and waves her hands as though it would sway her mind.

Shauna doesn't budge. "I can't do it anymore. I can't live this life. Be this person. I'm brave Chris, but I'm not stupid. We'll all die young if we stay here. If we stay with Dauntless. We'll get tossed to the Gutter in a matter of time. We'll never get to marry, have kids. This isn't a life I want."

"She's in love." Marlene says curiously. Of course she wouldn't know for sure. Marlene has never seen Zeke and Shauna interact before.

"You have no future with him Shauna." Lynn said sounding more like the older sister now.

"I have no future here!" She shouts.

Christina looks down at her feet. I know she's thinking about this new guy she's been seeing. The one I agreed to meet at dinner on Sunday night. Is a guy really worth it?

I can't help but think of Four. Would I risk my life in order to be with him?

My heart leaps in my throat, and I feel my eyes begin to prick with tears at the thought of never seeing him again. My palms are sweaty and adrenaline rushes through me as I picture his dark blue eyes, and how they darken whenever he looks at me. My breathing becomes harsher and I can feel my cheeks flush. How is it, that one guy can make me so damn emotional?

"I'll leave with you." Christina says then. Everyone looks at her. And suddenly it's as though there's a pounding of drums in the room, a heat passes over all of us. Are we really considering this?

"Damn it. I can't be here without you." Lynn says running a hand through her extremely short hair. "I'll go." Then she curses under her breath.

Shauna looks more hopeful than ever.

Marlene's eyes travel around all our faces. "I haven't been here long. But I know it's not the most ideal situation. I was blackmailed to join here anyways."

"What? How?" Lynn asks.

"There's a guy I worked with. I liked him, but I don't think he liked me that way. They said they would hurt him if I didn't." She almost growls. It's weird to see such a happy person like Marlene get angry. It feels like everyone should take a step away from her until she calms down.

"We would need a plan." Matthew says quietly.

"You guys know what has happened to all the other dancers who tried to escape right?" I ask suddenly.

They all look at me, and the attention makes me uncomfortable. "Are you saying we can't do this Tris? Would you even come?" Christina asks making me fidget.

I take in a deep breath and sigh. "I'm saying we would just need a really good plan. And, yes. I'd go." I can't believe the words just left my mouth. "I know I'm the poster child of talking you all back from the ledge, but I'm with Shauna on this. I'm tired."

"And you like someone." Christina smirks.

Everyone looks at me like I've grown two heads.

"No." I protest, but I'm already blushing. "I just think that if we do this. We need to leave as a group. All together at the exact same time. Then when we're far enough away, we split up for a while. It will be harder for him to come after us. We can meet up once we feel it's safe and…"

"Happily ever after." Marlene says smirking.

I swallow a lump in my throat. "Something like that."

"We'll need time to get away, time before Max notices we've gone."

"I've already thought that through." Shauna says smiling. "New Year's Day. We'll all be at the New Year's Eve auction on Wednesday at Dauntless, and we have New Year's Day off. We don't dance on Friday and they won't expect us to show up until midday on Friday."

"That gives us 30 hours. We can get a flight in that amount of time. But like Tris said, we should all split up initially."

"Only none of us have passports, and Max monitors our expenditures." Lynn says.

Christina smiles. "I might have a way around that. My mom was a lawyer remember? I can get us what we need."

"Legally?" Matthew asks.

"Best you don't ask." She says.

"The auction on New Year's Eve ends at midnight. We're allowed to leave then, so we'll just meet up somewhere."

"You're forgetting one thing." I say then. "Those who buy us at the auction for the night, will be watching us. They'll tell to Eric if we ditch them early."

"So we just need guys who know us and will be willing to help."

"That means sharing our secret with others."

"It has to be guys we trust." Shauna says. "I trust Zeke."

Marlene picks her head up then. "Zeke? As in Zeke Pedrad?"

We all look at her. "Yes. You know him?" Shauna asks.

"I only know what I know from Uri. Zeke's brother."

"You know him?" I ask, knowing where this is going perfectly well.

She smiles. "I used to work with him at Cake'n Shake. He's the guy…" Her voice trails off. Lynn looks momentarily hurt but still wears a tough mask.

Shauna smiles wide. "Then you'll tell Uriah." Marlene smiles back.

"Matthew could buy one of us." Christina says casually glancing at Lynn.

"No. No no way!" She backs up.

"No one else we know is gonna buy you. We all know you're into girls." Chris smirks back.

No one flinches. We all knew it deep down. We just never said that we knew to her face. Only Marlene looks surprised.

"You'll have to kiss me for show." Lynn grumbles at Matthew.

He laughs. "Sure thing. Now I just need to make it seem like I'm into you when you're working here so that no one gets suspicious when I buy you out."

"I have someone who can buy me." Christina says before anyone can offer for her. "Now Tris on the other hand…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know someone who would be willing to buy her." Chris's smile is wide, and her eyes narrow like she's a cat who's cornered a mouse.

There was no avoiding this now.

"What?"

"Who?"

"Four." Chris laughs as she says his name. My blush does me no favors as Matthew's jaw drops, and Shauna jumps out of her seat laughing and screams that she knew this would happen.

"Fine." I grit my teeth.

"There is one thing we haven't considered though." Lynn says. "Are we going to tell the other dancers and get them in on our plan too?"

"We can't tell everyone." I say, happy the attention is no longer on my secret yet non-existent love life. "Too large a group would make them suspicious. It could only be a few."

"Tori for sure." Shauna says. "I've talked to her about this before. She wants out."

"Cara." Christina says. "Or is she too far to reach?"

"Probably best not to tell her. I feel horrible about it, but I've heard that Jeanine's security is unbreakable. She would find out." Matthew says.

"What about the male dancers?" I ask before I can stop myself.

"We don't know any of them." Shauna says.

Yes we do. I want to tell them about Uriah. Since the plan is for him to buy out Marlene anyway, they'll find out. But again, it's not my secret to tell.

"What about the cameras and paid off homeless people. They're all over Chicago. They would tell Max if we went somewhere we weren't supposed to be." I ask.

I can feel my phone ping suddenly. It's quiet enough where no one else will hear. It means I have a new message, either in the form of a text, voicemail or email. I'll check it later.

"Maybe not." Matthew begins. "I know of one place close to Amity that we might be able to get through. It's run by Johanna, and she is very popular among all the people out there. She holds dinners for the homeless that she sets up out of pocket, not Max. She's better friends with them than Max is. And there is a highway that goes right by Amity. The security network is said to be down in that area and won't be restored until the warmer months. It will take us directly to O'Hare International Airport."

We all look at each other.

"Is this really going to happen?" Christina asks smiling.

"Looks that way." Shauna says excitedly.

"It's still a month off, but I think we can do it." Matthew says.

"All in?" Marlene asks.

"All in."

My phone pings at me again, as Christina and I get into her car. Reminding me I have a new message to look at. My stomach is up my throat thinking that it's Thompson. Because of course he would be the one to find my number or email me. And it couldn't be Uriah. I changed the ping to a beep when he messages me. But it's not either of them.

Tob . Eaton and the schools address.

Tob? Four?

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Thanksgiving

Date: November 27th, 2014 23:49

To: Beatrice Prior

Tris, I wanted to wish you a happy Thanksgiving, and hope you're well.

-4

* * *

Before I know what I'm doing, I reply. And mentally kick myself for it too.

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: Thanksgiving

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:12

To: Four Eaton

Thank you for your email. Happy Thanksgiving to you too. Also, how did you manage to change your screen name?

-Curious

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Screen Name

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:16

To: Beatrice Prior

I can be very persuasive when I want to be.

-4

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: Persuasive

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:22

To: Four Eaton

I'd like to see that in real life. You don't seem that scary to me.

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Caution

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:25

To: Beatrice Prior

Be careful what you wish for Tris.

-4

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: Wishes

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:27

To: Four Eaton

How many wishes do I get Mr. Eaton?

* * *

"Tris?" Christina jumps me. "Why are you blushing?" She looks at me as we come to a stop light.

"What?" My hand flies to my cheek and my voice breaks just slightly. "I'm not blushing."

She smirks at me. "I've known you a long time Tris Prior, and you don't blush often, but as of right now, you, are blushing. Plus your fingers are shaking just a bit, which only happens when you blush."

Damn it. "Just drive Christina."

Another ping gets my attention. I look down at my phone. Christina does to, still smirking. "No way. I want to witness every moment." She pulls the car over to the side of the road and down an alley before settling next to me, an eager look on her face.

"You have to meet Marlene at the mall soon."

"Screw shopping. How often do I get to watch Tris Prior attempt to flirt?"

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Wishes

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:30

To: Beatrice Prior

How late were you to Amar's first class? How many minutes late? That's how many wishes you get Miss. Prior.

-4

* * *

"And why is he emailing you? That's so formal." Christina scrunches her nose.

My heart beat is more or less through the roof. "How late was I to class the first day?"

"What?" She looks at me funny.

"How late was I? To Amar's class?"

She shrugs. "I don't know." Then she digs out her phone. "But I might be able to find out."

"Please do." My voice is a little hurried.

Another ping.

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Return

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:31

To: Beatrice Prior

I have a proposition. Since you get wishes, I want requests. Same amount.

-4

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: Really?

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:33

To: Four Eaton

What kind of requests?

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Requests

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:36

To: Beatrice Prior

They're the same thing as wishes, only you can choose to not comply. It's the gentlemanly thing to do.

-4

* * *

"I support this. Completely." Christina laughs as she leans over my shoulder.

I suppress the urge to groan because I know she isn't going away any time soon. But she keeps looking through her phone for some hint at how late I was that first day. It was only a couple of minutes right?

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: Requests and Wishes

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:38

To: Four Eaton

Do these requests and wishes mean the same thing as questions? And if so, does that mean you have to answer my questions no matter what, yet I don't have to answer yours?

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Requests and Wishes

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:41

To: Beatrice Prior

It can be a question, but only if you ask it in the form of a wish. And yes, you are not required to answer or comply with my requests. You could also wish for other things, just as I can request other things.

-4

* * *

"This could get really dirty really fast." Christina hums over my shoulder.

"Focus on your job please." My voice breaks slightly, and a shit eating grin plasters her face.

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: Interested

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:42

To: Four Eaton

Such as?

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Such as…

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:46

To: Beatrice Prior

Doing favors for one another. I'll let your imagination figure out the rest.

-4

* * *

"Six!" Christina yells startling me. "You were six minutes late."

"How did you figure it out?" I ask.

"One of the guys in the class videotaped me sassing Amar and Four on this first day. The shot includes them ordering me to do pushups, and you running in tripping over me. The clock on the wall was in the frame of the video. It's just passed five minutes but doesn't look far enough to be seven, so six it is!" She smiles proudly. "Want to watch the video? It's actually really funny."

"Not now."

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: Six

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:50

To: Four Eaton

Six minutes. Six wishes for me. Six requests for you.

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: First Request

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:52

To: Beatrice Prior

What's your phone number? Emailing can be very tiring.

-4

* * *

"What'd he say?!" Christina asks at the ping.

"He wants my phone number."

"So what are you waiting for?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea Chris."

She punches my shoulder. "Good God Tris you need to live on the edge a little. Give the man your number!"

"He's our TA. Isn't that illegal in some stance?"

"Only if you engage in intimate activities." She waggles her eyebrows at me. "But talking is just fine. A few of my profs last year gave out their cell numbers saying to text them with questions."

"It feels wrong."

Ping.

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: First Request

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:55

To: Beatrice Prior

Waiting.

-4

* * *

Fuck.

Christina looks at me impatiently, like she's about to take the phone out of my hands and do if for me. It's not a good idea. I kind of want him to have my number. To show that yes I am interested but in a restricted way. It's really not a good idea. So many things could go wrong, and he could get hurt in the process, never mind me. But then I always have a way of contacting him in my pocket. A little piece of him. I already know this is going to end badly.

I do it anyway.

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: First Request

Date: November 28th, 2014 00:57

To: Four Eaton

827.555.6702

* * *

I stare at the screen of my phone waiting for it to ping, explode or possibly burn my hand. All three sound like equally plausible options at the moment.

But nothing happens.

Nothing, fucking, happens.

My eyes begin to hurt as the screen times out and turns black.

"Did he seriously just do that?" Christina stares open mouthed at my phone. "He seriously just asked for your number then left you hanging? What a jerk wad."

"Maybe he fell asleep."

"No way in Hell did he fall asleep Tris. Trust me on this. You need to message him again. He's teasing."

"And say what?" My voice had minor traces of panic. Thankfully, Chris did not exploit it like she normally would.

She thinks for a moment. "You could always use one of your wishes."

"And wish for what?"

"Dick pic?"

"Christina!"

She snorts. "Fine. They aren't usually that great anyway." My phone still doesn't light up. "You said he agreed to follow your wishes no matter what?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, what do you want to know about him?"

I lean back in my seat and think. What do I want to know about Four? His real name? No, he should be the one to tell me on his own time, if he ever wants to tell me. Why he's chosen me to focus his attention on? No, that sounds like I'm full of myself, and a little bitchy.

Could always get right to the point: why was he at Dauntless that night?

But that doesn't seem like a conversation to have over the phone. I'll be able to tell if he's lying or not in person.

"I'm going to save them." I say finally.

"Your call." She shrugs. "But you have to swear to let me in on anything that happens."

"Cross my heart and hope to die." Sarcasm dripping from my mouth.

She smiles, knowing she won't get any further with me tonight. "Now, I need to go shopping. You okay to drive home?"

"Of course."

"Good. Because it's going to be a bitch and a half getting out of the parking lot." She laughs as she pulls the car back onto the road.

A groan escapes my mouth.

My phone pings quietly. I don't look at it.

"So is a lacy bra okay?"

I punch Christina in the shoulder.

****Please review! And guys, I have no idea if the email I put up there as Four's is real or not, but it's probably best not to test it!****


	17. Chapter 17

****SURPRISE DIVERGENT READERS! I know I said the odds of me updating in July are not exactly in your favor, however… this one just came right out easily so I HAD to write it! The next update will come sometime in the future haha but I can't say when. **

**Thank you thank you thank you guys so much for the reviews and words of encouragement. I have gotten quite a few PMs about the story too and I just want to say thank you! Honestly, I didn't know how this story would be received and how well it would do, but you guys have blown me and my expectations away! I mean come on, over 330 reviews!? The more I see, the more motivated I am to write more chapters. Obviously I'll be finishing this story no matter how many reviews I get, but it doesn't hurt to send them my way ;) And I know what it's like to wait for a story on this site to be updated haha so I feel your pain!**

**I will try to make the wait as painless as possible!**

**Hope everyone is having a good summer so far! (It's so hot up here!)**

**Tris POV – Sunday November 30****th**** ****

I haven't been able to sleep properly since Thursday night. Every time I close my eyes I see his face. Hear his voice. Hell, I can even smell him. His leather jacket that hangs over my desk chair still gives off his scent and it does me no help what so ever when I try to drift off. He invades my dreams, he throws off my heart beat, and he makes my knees weak. I hate it. But I also love it.

His last email to me left my lungs tight and my heart out of control. I've never thought about a boy seriously like this before, and never imagined he would feel this way about me.

Now that the plan is in motion, Christina has urged me to talk to him and let him in. I'm at war with myself on the issue. I'll have to let him in eventually and tell him my secret if he's going to buy me at the auction the night of New Year's Eve. The thought, again, makes my legs feel like jelly.

Shauna and Matthew let us know yesterday that the best place we should all meet up once we've left, is Washington State. Apparently Max and Eric both have arrest warrants under false identities there. Plus, it's right on the ocean. Granted it is the Pacific Northwest and therefore will be rainy and a bit cooler than most places, but no one seems to mind. I'm excited because the Pacific Northwest has some of the best forests around.

We'll still be going to school though; I'm not going to drop out now. We're currently trying to decide between University of Washington, and Western Washington University. They both look good. Not to mention Western Washington University is very close to Canada which would make for a quick getaway if necessary. Both Max and Eric, and probably a few of his men's passports would be flagged and they'd be arrested on the spot.

It will be our little corner of the world.

"So remember Tris, it needs to be something nice, but not too fancy. It's a classy place, but not five star where you need a reservation two months in advance. How about this?"

I make a humming noise to Christina as she goes on talking. Tonight is the night I meet her mysterious beau. She has finally given me his name. Will. Short for William naturally. William Nickolas Stark III to be exact, and a small description of him. At first it sounds like she's describing a male version of Cara.

"Tris are you even listening?"

My head snaps up to her as I look at a painting on the wall. "No. Sorry."

She sighs. "I know you don't like this, but you need an outfit for tonight, and the quicker you find one you like, the faster we can go home."

I nod and begin to make an effort to look through the dresses on the racks. Christina already has six or seven in her arms. I wonder for the briefest moment how she can carry all those dresses effortlessly, but then I remember, this is Christina we're talking about.

Not really wanting to try a lot on, I become very picky. Almost every dress Christina offers, I decline. Too sparkly, too short, too much cleavage, too sheen.

Finally she huffs and turns her back on me, heading toward the dressing rooms. "You pick out your dress then! I'm going to go try these on."

I wave after her, already knowing which one she's going to choose. The red one she got off the high wall rack. She's been unconsciously feeling the fabric over and over as she grabs other dresses. Not to mention she looks great in a blood red color, and she knows it.

After giving up on the main area and not even daring to look at the wall dresses because of the price range, I walk over to the clearance area.

Initially I go for the size 2's and feel a little self-conscious about my abnormally skinny body. But, with the injections I've been getting, maybe I can fit into a 4.

The new bra Christina bought me fit better than any I already had. She praised me for finally going through an appropriate growth spurt, and bought me five more. Unfortunately now, these new bras are starting to feel a little tight. After having my fourth shot yesterday at Dauntless, I've noticed a sizable difference. And I'm not the only one. I've gotten more attention wherever I go, and I don't like it.

So while Christina is in the dressing room, I quickly sneak off to the lingerie department and return the three bras I haven't worn yet and exchange them for the next cup size up. Christina will notice, but I don't care.

Now I really need a dress. Sweeping over the clearance area one last time, I'm about to give up, when a little black number catches my eye. It looks skin tight, which makes me grimace, but it also looks very flattering. The dress works in layers to give it texture and stops mid-thigh. A little shorter than I wanted, but I'll try it anyway. It's a halter style top, with a plunging V-neck, and doesn't show too much. And it's a size 4.

I walk into the dressing room, dress over my arm, and go to the stall next to Christina. There are three dresses by her feet, and four thrown over the door.

"Everything fitting okay Chris?" I ask causally as I start to undress.

I hear her swear under her breath and suddenly crash to the floor. Trying my hardest not to laugh, I ask if she's okay.

"This stupid train got caught on my toe."

"You picked out a dress with a train? I thought you said this wasn't supposed to be extremely fancy."

"It's not! I just thought the dress was pretty."

A small laugh escapes me.

"Don't you laugh at me Tris Prior. You knew what I was like when we moved in together."

Another laugh.

"Did you at least find a dress?" She asks.

"Yes."

I look at myself in the mirror, body now covered in the soft black material. It fits perfectly. The bust size is just slightly smaller than I was hoping but it works. My hips are sharp and defined, and it squishes my legs together giving me thicker thighs rather than bird-like legs. I can't help but smile at my reflection. It's one of the first times in a long time that I've felt good in a dress. Sure my alter ego Raven has spent her fair share of time in dresses and had killer confidence, but Tris, not so much.

"Well let me see!" I hear her door open and bang on mine.

I open my dressing room door and step out for her.

"Oh, my, God." She stares at me. "Your boobs have doubled."

"Christina." I hush her and feel my cheeks flare.

"What size is it?" She asks staring at my hips now.

"4."

"Ironic."

"Christina!"

She laughs. "You rock in that dress Tris. You need to get it. How much? $100?"

This is where I laugh. "$20. Found it on clearance."

Christina almost slams her head into the wall behind her. "How is it that you manage to find the perfect dress, and I mean _the perfect freaking dress_, on clearance no doubt, and you hate shopping! And I can't even find one that I like the best!"

"What about the red one?"

"I haven't tried that one yet." He voice is smaller.

"Why not? You were practically drooling over it."

"Well, I wanted to impress Will. And his favorite color is navy blue. I wanted to wear something he liked."

"Chris, if he likes you like you've told me he does, then he would much rather you wear something that you feel comfortable and confident in, than something that will test his testosterone." She looks at me and smiles. "Wear the red one. You kick ass in red."

"Thanks Tris." She goes to give me a big hug, when we hear a tear of fabric. The train of Christina's dress was caught on the door hinge of her dressing room, and she just ripped it.

"How much is the dress?" I ask quietly.

Christina stares at the rip. "$300." Her face goes white.

"Take it off quickly and go tell the attendant there was already a rip in it."

"I think they'd notice if a $300 dress had a rip in it Tris." She sounds defeated, ready to pay for it.

"If you go to them first it will make you look less guilty."

"You have quite the bad streak to you Tris." She smirks and goes back to the changing room to undress.

I don't respond. Taking one last glance at myself in the mirror, I move the thick strap to the side, just to peak at my hidden ravens tattoo. It covers them perfectly.

Removing the dress carefully from my body, I hear Christina tell me she's going to the attendant and tosses the red dress over the divider, asking me to hold it for her until she meets me at the register.

As it turns out, someone had complained of a hole in the dress two hours earlier that day, yet they forgot to remove it from the wall. They gave Christina a 20% discount for reminding them.

We walked out of the store with our new dresses, and my new bras and headed towards the shoe store. I asked Christina if I could just wear a pair of black flats, but she said no. With a black dress like mine, "the possibilities are endless."

She made me walk up and down the shoe aisles in at least ten different pairs of three inch heels. All of them were different colors and styles. And they all hurt my feet. Yes I perform in heels, but it takes time to break them in! Not to mention Eric gives us special insoles that create a soft platform for us.

I settle for the sixth pair I had on. They were the most comfortable, platform wedges, and they were a royal blue color with hints of sparkles. Quite the clubbing kind of shoe. Not exactly a fuck-me heel like we wear at Dauntless. But I'm not looking to get fucked. I think…

We leave the mall after three hours and two soft pretzels.

My phone is a heavy weight in my pocket as I remember his last email. I can't get it out of my head.

"What'cha thinking about?" Christina asks turning down the radio.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Yep."

She doesn't push it.

As the time goes by at home, I reread the email over and over. Imagining what on earth he was thinking when he wrote it. Well, he didn't write it. I know that poem and the author. It's so different now though. I want to say it's a good kind of different, but I really don't know. I would like to give myself to him and be completely honest about my background, what I do, and ask for help. But I can't do that. Not yet.

At exactly 7:00 P.M. Christina and I arrive at the restaurant, all decked out. I still haven't responded to the email. But I leave my phone in the car. I don't have a purse and the dress has no pockets. Christina suggested putting it in my bra, and put it to vibrate. Then we could message each other secretly and the boys would never know what was going on.

"Boys?" I asked her in disbelief. "_Boys? _As in _plural?_"

"Yeah, so?"

"You didn't tell me this was a double date!" My voice rose so that others in cars next to us could hear me.

Christina had just rubbed me off. "Relax Tris. It's not really a double date. I just didn't want you to be a third wheel is all. Plus, you already know the guy. I asked him to come. And Will said it was totally okay."

"Christina, I don't want to date right now."

"I told you, it's not a date."

She didn't tell me who it would be. Though as soon as we entered the place I relaxed. I did know who it was. Didn't know them very well, but I knew.

Uriah stood there, in a button down dark purple shirt, with a pair of nice black slacks, no tie.

"Shit Tris you clean up good."

"I could say the same to you." My smile comes easily.

Christina nudges my side. "Told you it'd be fine."

I still want to glare at her. But I don't. Christina is always looking out for me with my best interest at heart; sometimes I don't give her enough credit. Though sometimes her methods are not what I would have done, she always comes through.

"Looks like I'm your date tonight." Uriah smiles linking my arm in his as we wait for Will to show up.

"Not a date." I say back, staring him in the face.

He chuckles. "Sure thing."

Christina is suddenly jogging in her heels outside and throws her arms around a man with blonde hair.

"That Will?" I ask Uriah, not looking at him.

"What makes you think I know him?" He asks smiling.

"I have a theory that you know just about everyone in Chicago."

His smile widens. "I didn't know you."

"That's because I don't make it a case to be known."

Christina and Will come back inside then. My mouth threatens to hang open, but all I can do is snort.

Will is tall like Uriah, but not that tall. He's broad shouldered, but not too thick. A set of glasses rest on his face covering his green eyes. His blonde hair is straight and with just a bit of hair gel, is flipped out of his eyes. He actually has a small black piercing in his left ear. Christina is eye fucking him. As well as a few other girls in the area. He looks like the shy type who would rather spend the night reading a book and watching documentaries with low fat popcorn, than going out.

He wears a simple dark blue button up like Uriah, and black dress pants. He's staring at Christina with a hungry gaze that suggests he's not so simple as he looks.

But that's not what I find so funny.

Uriah knows him. I know him.

I elbow Uriah in the gut and he starts laughing too.

Will finds my eyes and gives me a small smile, but his eyes harden just a bit. Christina doesn't know. She doesn't know that he and Uriah work together. She doesn't know that he has an alter ego just like us. She doesn't know that he's a male dancer.

But how could she not know? She's worked those nights at Dauntless before. Unless she never noticed him, not really. Christina can be oblivious sometimes when she's caught up in work.

"Shall we get our table now?" Uriah says recovering from laughing.

Christina looks confused, but doesn't ask a question.

She is going to die when she learns that her boyfriend is a male dancer for the same employer and his name is Spike. And she's going to kill me three times over when she finds out I knew and didn't tell her.

"Stark party of four?" A hostess asks behind us.

Will nods at her and takes the lead, with Christina on his arm. Uriah takes my own arm, and I let him, even though he knows he will not be _leading_ me anyway. He still gives me a boyish grin and a waggle of his eyebrows when we pass a couple, huddled in a shadowed booth making out.

We get seated in a booth by the side window which has a view of the small park across the street.

"So, Beatrice?" Will says smirking at me.

"William." I say right back, not taking my eyes off the menu. "What do you do for a living?"

"I work in a coffee shop right now. Student at the University full time."

"Major?" I ask, reaching for some water.

"Business management with a minor in linguistics."

"Sounds boring." Uriah says causally.

Christina looks between the two men. Her eyes are narrowed as they always are when she's thinking really hard. "Do you two know each other?"

Uriah is the first to speak. "I've been to his coffee shop before. Nice place. Not far from the bakery I work at."

She seems happy with this answer for now, but I can tell she's still thinking.

Will looks back at me. "What about you Beatrice? Christina says you're in school too."

"Just Tris actually. And yes, I'm an English major."

"So you want to be a teacher?" Uriah asks, smirking at me.

"Not every English major wants to be a teacher." I say glaring at him. I get that assumption all the time.

"Well what would you like to do?" Will asks leaning closer, setting his menu down.

"I don't know."

When he sees I'm not going to elaborate, but smiles kindly and leans back throwing his arm around Christina. "That's a lovely dress by the way."

"Dude, my date, my flirting boundaries." Uriah says playfully across the table.

Will laughs and puts his hands up in defense.

"Don't take it so hard Will. Uriah will have his work cut out for him seeing as half the guys in here were staring at her as we walked in." Christina says casually, and eyes me. She's trying to make me squirm.

"And the other half were staring at you." He says staring at her.

Christina squeaks just a little before composing herself. "So, what sounds good?" I see Will's arm move slightly under the table, and Christina's attention is challenged. We may have to leave before we get food. I know Uriah sees it too, but he doesn't say anything this time.

Our waiter comes around, and is quite taken with our table. His name is Gabe and he's from London, England. He's a very bouncy waiter and his gaze lingers just a little too long on Will. Uriah is trying so hard not to laugh as Gabe makes extra trips to our table. Christina even looks jealous as Gabe leans over Will to point something out on the dessert menu, which we can all clearly see. This time I need to hold back a little laughter too.

But as soon as our plates including two orders of New York steak, chicken parmesan, garlic mashed potatoes and salmon, are cleared and dessert is ordered. Will and Christina excuse themselves quickly one after the other. Christina looking flushed and Will with a devilish smile on his face.

"Think they're coming back?" Uriah whispers to me as our small sugary desserts are served to us.

"Christina loves chocolate." I say looking across the table at her small piece of chocolate fudge filled cake.

"Apparently so does Will."

I snort. "She'll be back."

"It would be a shame if a few bites disappeared."

Nudging Uriah and smiling, I say. "Don't be a dick. Eat your own first before you mess with hers."

The sound of a car horn blares outside, and everyone in the restaurant looks towards the windows. A pickup truck has slammed on the breaks at the nearby intersection, leaving tire skid marks on the pavement and is currently yelling at a hooded figure in the crosswalk.

No one is hurt, but people like to watch a good argument. Uriah is too focused on finishing his own dessert at an inhuman rate. He's like a vacuum.

I pick at my own spumoni ice-cream a bit before I start eating.

"So Tris…"

"You knew it was Will the whole time." I say turning to look at him.

He nods. "Yep. But you understand why I couldn't tell you."

"Of course. It's not your secret to share."

"Speaking of secrets." He leans in just a little closer. "Your newest dancer, Cherry." I can feel my stomach clench. His eyes look pained. "I was in Max's office-"

"What were you doing in Max's office?"

"Discussing a raise." He pauses. "I saw her picture."

"And?" He gives me a dumb look. But I just shrug. "Not my secret to share." I say quietly and look back at my ice cream.

He leans back into the booth and sighs. "But you know it's who I'm talking about."

"Maybe."

"Tris."

"I'm not going to have this conversation with you Uriah. It's her secret and it's her decision who she wants to tell or not tell. You can't force her to come out and say it to you. Maybe she doesn't want you to know."

"I'm worried."

Uriah's eyes have become glassy, and his smile is gone. A motherly instinct takes over and I touch his arm and rub small circles into his sleeve, an attempt to sooth him. I have no idea if it really worked, but he made an effort to put a smile back onto his face.

When Christina and Will do arrive, Uriah and I are long since done. Christina's neatly curled hair is a mess, and Will's gelled hair has come undone. Not to mention one of his shirt buttons is misplaced in the wrong hole.

"Hey guys." She sounds breathless. They're both flushed. Will just grins.

"Decided to have dessert without us?" Will asks as they begin to eat.

"Could ask you the same question." Uriah says smirking.

Both Christina and Will choked on their food.

Christina and Will say a romantic goodbye and Uriah and I just shake hands. "It was nice seeing you again Tris." He leans down and brings my hand to his mouth, kissing it lightly. It sends a shiver down my spine, and I blame it on the cold weather. It's not every day my hand gets kissed.

I glance over quickly at the happy couple, who is currently sucking face. I grimace slightly but turn back to Uriah. "Does he know?"

"Know what?"

This time I give him a dumb look. "About Christina."

He smirks at me. "You mean Candy?"

I nod.

"I think so. I've never come out and asked him, but I'm pretty sure he knows how she got to be so flexible."

"Thank you for that mental image." I rub my temples.

He laughs and brings me in for a one armed, harmless hug. "You are quite welcome Tris Prior. And any time you need more disturbing images or thoughts in your mind, or if you need to expel some sexual energy-"

"Uriah!" We all look over. Zeke is standing across the street, upset.

"Uh-oh." Uriah says quietly, though his smile doesn't fade; hinting that he knows what Zeke is going to yell at him about. I have to say that I've never seen Zeke angry. I've seen him flustered, happy, content, a little sad, jealous even when Shauna is getting extra attention from male customers, but I've never seen him angry. His eyes are narrowed and hard, his voice is strained like he's holding back. His hands are balled in fists as he stalks over to us.

"What are you doing?!" He yells as he comes closer.

"Calm down Zeke. We'll have this conversation later, and when you're not yelling. You sound like mom."

Zeke's lips shut immediately but his cheeks are red and his left eye twitches just slightly.

"You have my number Tris." Uriah winks at me and walks away with Zeke.

Will watches them leave. "What was that about?"

I shrug. "No idea."

Christina and I get in the car and drive home. She is completely infatuated with Will. She talks my ear off about how gorgeous he is, how smart he is, how understanding and on and on and on. She talks about his love for travel, and how he wants to spend a year just traveling in the future. He would like to go with friends, but he is okay if he just goes alone. Christina talks about how she offered to be his translator since she's a wiz-kid at languages. Of course she had first offered as a joke, but then he asked her in a more serious way and she couldn't say no. She also mentions, quietly, how it will suck if this plan doesn't work and she never gets to go traveling with him.

Once we're in bed, I can hear Christina begin to snore immediately.

I pull out my phone and read Four's email one more time. I haven't responded, and he hasn't texted. I don't know who will make the next move, but it will probably have to be me. There is some kind of secret dating code that says I have to wait three days before responding, so I don't seem too eager, but that I also haven't lost interest. Christina knows the rules like the back of her make up station. Today is the third day. But I'm not ready.

A hot blush covers my body and the covers on my bed feel too hot as my eyes roam the words. A poem.

* * *

From: Four Eaton

Subject: Thank you

Date: November 28th, 2014 01:16

To: Beatrice Prior

_She was strange_

_and beautiful_

_and those were human_

_qualities that I_

_had never seen weaved _

_together before._

_She became terrifying_

_to me,_

_not because I feared_

_who she was,_

_but for the sake_

_of love,_

_I feared what _

_she could do to me._

_-Christopher Poindexter_

* * *

****Please Review! And yes, this time I did mention real universities in Washington State. And yes peeps, this be a real poem from a real poet, I didn't make it up so I can't take credit (official disclaimer on the poem). And because I haven't done a disclaimer on the story in a while, I'll make it quick: Disclaimer! I don't own the original Divergent story line, plot, characters, or any of the wonderful creations that make Veronica Roth's story so awesome! _This_ story line, about Tris being a dancer and Four being her T.A. is my original idea. I'm sure others have had similar ideas in the past, but this is my version. Okay, disclaimer done. Keep smiling readers!********


	18. Chapter 18

****Hello there! I'm super sorry it took so long for me to start writing again. Truth be told, this chapter gave me huge writers block, so I tried to start on other chapters as well, but I just wasn't getting ANYWHERE. For those fellow writers out there who know what I'm talking about, it sucks doesn't it? I did get a little bit of inspiration for this chapter from the reviews I received, asking for more FOURTRIS and all that jazz. **

**There will be definite FourXTris confrontation in the next chapter. Unfortunately I don't know when I will update. I like to be a few chapters ahead from the one I post, but right now I'm not. Actually I'm a little sick today. Stayed home from work and everything. So maybe I can start working on the chapters today, but I can't guarantee anything **** I promise I'm not making you wait on purpose.**

**Also, because I feel this needs to be mentioned at least once, this story is somewhat of a SLOWBURN. Remember I take things slower than others because I like to build things up, get into backstories and make this as plausible as possible. If it helps you to understand, I love the story Pride and Prejudice which is considered a slowburn haha.**

**As always, I don't own Divergent or the original characters or storyline. I'm sure there have been some storylines somewhat similar to mine, but this specific idea is mine. Also, some of the side characters are mine, such as Professor Thompson, who is loosely based and inspired by an Eric/Peter combination.**

**Hope you enjoy, and sorry again about the wait.**

**Four POV – Sunday November 30****th**** ****

My fists hurt, even though they were wrapped and experienced. It still stung after a while. Every punch and kick I threw felt harsh and calculated. It felt good to hit something, and it scared me.

She sent me another note this morning. The same phone number she had written on the note attached to the photo album. It was signed _Mom_, and had something else written underneath. _We need to talk._

Bullshit we do. Why now of all times? If she was alive and in the city, why the Hell didn't she come to visit me before? Why didn't she make herself known to me? What gives her the right to come forward now and claim me as a son when she wanted nothing to do with me before?

Then again, I might not know the whole story. There could be some third party factor that was involved.

Marcus. Maybe.

"You hit that thing any harder and you're going to punch a hole in it." Zeke's voice joked from behind me.

I hit the bag harder.

"I take it something happened?"

My eyes find his. They're concerned, and open to an explanation. "I got a photo album from a stranger a few days ago, along with a note."

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Like a secret admirer?"

I shake my head and hit the bag again. "Not exactly."

"Wait," Zeke seems to take a moment to wrap his head around what I've just said. "A photo album? Like of pictures?"

"That's what photo albums are Zeke." I hit the bag again.

"Pictures of what?"

I look back at Zeke who is now leaning comfortably against the wall.

My tone is cool and brisk. "Me."

I punch the bag again.

Zeke watches me continue to pound the bag, not asking for further details. I'm silently grateful, though I know he'll ask again, likely before we leave this building.

The gym was mostly empty seeing as it's almost eight at night, and it technically closed an hour ago. But Amar's cousin owns it, so they give me a little extra freedom. It still smelled of sweat, and blood. A smell that used to repulse me, one that reminded me of my fantastic childhood. Now I find it comforting, because I know how to fight back. It reminds me that I'm the one in control now.

Though I doubt, if given the chance, I would hit Marcus.

My teeth grit hard through the next punch. I'm too much of a coward.

"So . . ."

"Do you need something Zeke?" I ask slightly annoyed.

He shrugs his shoulders and frowns. "No, I guess not. I'm just bored."

"Don't you and Uriah usually go out drinking Sunday nights?" I ask looking over at him as he leans against the wall.

"Yeah, but he had a date tonight."

This stops me in my tracks. Date? Uriah? "Is it the girl from the bakery?"

"Marlene?" Zeke glances over at me. "No. He would have bragged about it. I don't know who it is. But I do know it's a double date. Going out with his friend, Will or something."

My voice lowers. "Is Will in the same line of work as Uriah?"

Zeke stiffens. I don't know if he's completely decided if he's okay with what Uriah does as a job. One the one hand, Zeke is jealous because Uriah gets to meet all these girls. But on the other hand, people in Uriah's line of work don't tend to have the best security, and have a tendency to go missing. No one except for close family or friends who know about what those, _dancers,_ do. Who would notice if he went missing?

"I think so," Zeke is quiet. "Come to think of it, you know what sounds good?"

"If you say cake I'll use you as a punching bag."

He laughs this time. "No, I was going to say target practice."

I straighten out and back off from the bag. "Target practice? What did you have in mind?"

"Preferably guns. It's the only thing I have a chance at beating you with."

A small smirk appears at the corner of my mouth. I beat Zeke with knives every time he challenges me. He's tried distracting me, giving himself a bonus throw, and making me throw on my knees. I still beat him. Zeke isn't exactly a sore loser, but he is a sore winner. So unless I want to be dragged to a bar with a shirtless and drunk Zeke after he wins, I need to beat him.

"I'll take that as a yes?" He asks hopefully.

"Sure. Go get them set up, I'm going to take a quick shower."

Zeke says something taunting and then goes around the corner to the gun room. I walk the opposite direction towards the locker room. The ground changes from mat to concrete beneath my feet, and I feel stable. Even if the tile in the locker room reminds me of a hospital and the many visits I've had growing up, the mixed smell of water and cement keeps me level headed.

The whole building creeks and groans because of the old foundations. Noises that would normally remind me of Marcus's footsteps getting closer to my room when he was drunk. When I first started coming here they made me jump. Now we live simultaneously without bothering each other.

I change out of my shorts and tanktop into the plain black shirt and jeans I was wearing earlier, grabbing my gray hoodie off the rack as well for when I leave. Take my phone out of my locker and put it in my front pocket, while my keys and wallet go to the back.

The guns are set up at the firing station when I come back. Zeke is not.

I pick up my headphones and safety goggles and then my gun. Might as well get warmed up.

I fire once.

Then twice.

Again.

And again.

Each time the pull of the gun threatens to fly back at my face, but my arms are stronger now, and can hold it steady. Each time the gun fires, the bang echoes through my bones and surges me onward. Here, I can feel powerful.

Someone taps me on the shoulder. I finish the last two rounds in my clip and set the gun down. Take off the headphones and safety goggles.

"Four, you won't believe this." Zeke's voice is excited and if I'm not mistaken, mischievous.

"Zeke, you say that all the time and nine out of ten times I believe it." I say turning around.

"Trust me on this one." He smiles deviously.

He begins to pull me by my arm and drag me out into the lobby of the gym. A woman sits in one of the seats near the reception desk.

"Nita?"

She stands and smiles at my voice, or the fact that she heard her name. "Hey Four." She winks. "Nice to see you again."

"What are you doing here?"

"Zeke mentioned that you like to come here after hours. And I wanted to see you."

Zeke makes a suggestive groan in the back of his throat that was only meant for me to hear. I resist the urge to punch him.

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

She smiles and giggles to herself. "No, of course nothing is wrong," She rocks on her feet, which are currently crammed into three inch pink heels. "I just wanted to see you."

I see Nita standing there, and don't get me wrong, she looks great. But it's not what I want to see. Her dark hair is down around her shoulders, her brown eyes thickly lined with black pencil and her figure fits great into the sparkly navy dress she's wearing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was going clubbing.

"Going out tonight?" I ask motioning to the dress. Not addressing the fact that she wanted to see me.

Her smile widens. "I was hoping to. But my friends bailed. I was walking down the street and passed by the gym. I saw Zeke fumbling for something in his car before going back inside and I figured that if he was here, you would be to. So, I guess I had to find out."

My head nods accordingly. It's a perfectly validated story, easily believable. Almost too coincidental. There are no clubs around this part of town, and the nearest bar is a few blocks away. I know some girls are able to walk long distances in heels, but Nita doesn't strike me as that type.

Then again, I thought Tris would be shy and timid when she's really more of a stubborn spit fire. Maybe I don't know girls as well as I thought. That's more of a Pedrad department anyway.

I turn around. "Would you give us a minute?"

Zeke, still smiling, winks at me and laughs to himself. He then walks back into the firing room, so I have time to talk to Nita alone.

Suddenly I don't know how to talk to girls who _want to see me._

Nita seems to notice my uncomfortable stance. She smiles.

"So, Four," She rolls my name off of her tongue like it's the sweetest thing in the world. It makes me even more uncomfortable.

"How'd you get the nickname?"

"How'd you get yours?" I counter. Only then realizing what a stupid question that was.

She laughs. "Well see, my full name Juanita, can be shortened by taking out the J, U, and A at the beginning and you're left with Nita. I'm not sure how Tobias turns into Four."

I scratch the back of my neck. "Yeah."

"Do you want to tell me?" She takes a step closer.

"It's not really that big of a deal."

"I'm curious by nature." She counters. Taking another step.

"When I was an undergrad, I came to one of my professor's classes late. Four minutes late. And he called me Four all through class, so much so that everyone else in the class began to call me Four too. I guess it just stuck." Not to mention I don't have any desire to be associated with my father either.

She laughs, and it almost sounds too much. It's not true laughter. She's trying way too hard.

"That's funny."

"Not really." I say quietly.

Nita frowns, but doesn't let my statement get her down. "Would you like to go get a drink downtown? You ran out of the hospital so fast, last time I saw you. I didn't get the chance to ask you."

I'd rather not. "You know Nita, I'm going to have to give you a raincheck."

She looks hurt almost instantly, but tries not to show it.

"I'd love to catch up, but tonight's not really a good night for me."

"Oh," She looks down at her dress. "I understand." She sounds a little happier now. It's forced. "No problem. Let me give you my number, and you can give me a call, or text if you're into that and let me know when you're free to meet up."

She reaches for my pants pocket and sticks her hand down it. Air quickly fills my lungs and she notices. A coy smile plays on her face. She's being a tease.

After she punches her number in she's about to put my phone back into my pocket when I take it out of her hands.

Nita stares at me. "Sorry, I can be a little forward sometimes. Bad habit." Then she giggles to herself. "Well, goodnight Four." She turns to the door and sashays her hips out.

I'm frozen in place, totally anxious and really, _really_, uncomfortable.

Zeke is shooting when I get back to the range.

"How was it?"

"I think she wants to be more than friends." I say in a monotone voice.

"Well no shit dude. She came to run down smelly gym to see you. In stripper heels no less. I'll tell you what, she could probably be in Uriah's line of work if she wanted."

I don't respond.

After we've warmed up, Zeke and I take a place in front of a target and aim.

"One clip each." I say as we put out protective gear on.

Once we've finished, we bring the targets in closer to inspect. I'm already smirking.

Zeke's shots are all over the target, where mine are in close nit groups by the head and chest.

"How about best two out of three?" He asks already switching clips.

"Would you like me to stand farther away too?" I ask.

He sticks his tongue out at me.

"How mature."

We ended up going best six out of eleven. I won.

"I have to call it Zeke. I'm early tomorrow to edit some papers." I say setting the gun back in it's place.

He's huffing to himself. "I'm gonna stay here. Practice and shit . . ." His mumbling usually makes me grin, but at this point I'm too worn out. Not to mention still a little freaked out by Nita's movements, suggestion and just her in general. Something doesn't feel right. Not like it does with Tris. Then again, I'm not even _with_ Tris am I? I have her number yet I haven't called her, texted her. I'm not even sure which one she prefers or if she even wants me to call her. Calling does seem to fit her more, but I don't want to seem too old fashioned. What would I even say?

My hoodie falls over my head and wraps me up in gray fuzz. It's not great against the wind and rain, but it'll serve my purpose to get home.

I'm so lucky Zeke hasn't figured this information out yet.

I know some people have a rule where you can't call someone until three days after a date has passed. This way it shows that you're interested, but not too eager.

Does that even qualify for this situation?

Then there's the whole deal we made about wishes and requests. I'm starting to doubt if that was a good idea. I was slightly under the influence at that point of the conversation. What if she asks things that are too personal? Things I'm not ready to share.

And do I wait for her to make a wish before I make another request? I don't even know what my next request would be. Should I ask her out? Is that even legal?

_Of course it's legal you idiot. She's a consenting adult of age. You're just her T.A. It may be against school policy and immoral but of course it's legal. _I think I could live with that.

I toss my hood over my head when it starts to sprinkle.

Locating the downtown shopping district is fairly easy. Just look for the most lights after dark. I begin to look for a cab. Each street is littered with people of all shapes and sizes. Some look like they're attending a movie premier, others look casual. The occasional homeless person begs for money. I give one man I see almost every other day a $5 bill. Like I do most times I see him. Each time he touches his chin – which I've come to learn is sign language for thank you – and gives me a smile.

A cab is parked at a street corner just a block away. I pick up the speed in order to get to the cab.

But something stops me dead in my tracks.

One of the restaurants in this area, one of the fancier ones, is directly ahead of me. It's floor to ceiling windows scream big money. And there by one of the windows, in a tiny black dress that would make any normal man freeze, is Tris. With Uriah next to her. She laughs, and smiles, nudging him as they eat what looks like dessert. I never admitted it, but Uriah knew how I felt about her, even if I wouldn't admit it. He got to her first.

_Zeke said Uriah had a date tonight._

I was an idiot for waiting.

My fists clench and the sound of skidding tires and a car horn almost knocks me off my feet. A truck has come to a halting stop two feet from me. The driver yells something unintelligible at me. I've stopped in the middle of the crosswalk.

I glance up once more at the restaurant, and find almost everyone looking at the commotion. Including Tris. She looks gorgeous, and concerned. But I know she can't see my face because she'd be scowling if she knew it was me.

Turning quickly on my heel I go back down the way I came. Traffic continues as normal.

Screw a cab, I'll take the train, even if the nearest platform is back by the gym.

Zeke is walking in my direction, obviously looking for a way home as well.

"Four? What are you doing?"

"Going home." I spit.

He raises an eyebrow. Knowing full well not to joke when I'm like this. Thoroughly pissed off.

"No cabs downtown?" He asks.

"Taking the train." I push past him.

He grabs onto my shoulder and spins me to face him. Getting in my face even if he is a little shorter than me. "Hey, what's going on? You weren't this much of a dick when you left. What happened?"

"Go ask your brother. He's at the Ridgeway."

Zeke looks confused but lets me go. I don't look back but I can tell he's not following me. And ever the drama queen that he is, he needs to know what's going on and be in the know.

The train takes me an extra thirty minutes to get home since I refused to take the cab right outside the restaurant where Uriah and Tris were flirting. I should have known she would like him more. He's much better with people than I am.

Maybe I should tell her what kind of business he's in. That would definitely throw her off of him. She's not the kind of girl to get swept up in that shit storm.

I pull out my phone and begin to type a message to her exposing Uriah's secret. But that's not me. I don't act out of jealousy. I delete the message and go to take a long shower in order to calm down. I don't retaliate. If I want to get Tris away from Uriah, I need to do it fair. I need to get her to like me rather than him, even if he's got a head start on me.

Now the only question is, where do I start?

****Hey hey hope you liked the chapter! The restaurant I used, the Ridgeway, is made up. I have no idea if it exists or not. Please review!****


	19. Chapter 19

****IMPORTANT NOTICE!**

**Thanks to one of my wonderful readers (I'll keep them nameless just because it was through a Private Message and not a review), for pointing out that the original Chapter 19 was a little too much for a T rating, I have changed it, or updated it if you will.**

**If you would like to read the original which was posted to this story on September 8****th**** 2015, which is more M, please go to my profile page and look for Into the Night M Scene. Personally, I like that version better than this version, but this is a T story and I have to abide by the rules like everyone else **

**I realize that I may have gotten too carried away and I want as many people to be happy as possible. So, officially, I'm sorry if I offended anyone or upset anyone by putting up that chapter under a T rating when it should have been an M. Plus I don't want my story to get reported, and I definitely DON'T want this to get taken down! The main difference between this version and the original is the amount of detail in the Thompson scene, and swear words. Same story line. If someone finds this update too much M still, PLEASE feel free to let me know and I will change it again!**

**So, in the best interest of the story, and the T rating, here is the MODIFIED VERSION.**

**If in the future I have other chapters that are going to be M, I will post this message at the top of the T version of the chapter: FOR ANYONE WHO WANTS TO READ THE ORIGINAL M VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER, GO TO MY PROFILE AND CLICK ON _INTO THE NIGHT M SCENES  
_****The chapters in this component are labeled accordingly. For example, Chapter 19 is the first chapter to be posted there, so the chapter title is simply Chapter 19.**

**Hope you enjoy!****

**Tris POV - Monday, December 1st**

As much as I was dreading it, dinner last night with Uriah wasn't that bad. He had a boyish charm to him, but he was certainly no boy. He was a man. Which is weird for me to say, or even to think about in my head. I've met a lot of men, some good, some bad, some in between. But to have a man that I've only recently met become a friend of mine with no interest in my profession or me in a sexual way is surprising. But it's a nice surprise. I could see myself relating to Uriah and being friends with him for a long time. As long as I'm able to look past the fact that he's a child at heart, a little inappropriate, and that he's Zeke's younger brother, who is best friends with Four.

How the Hell does Four keep finding ways into my life?

I still haven't responded to the email.

Plus I'm still curious as to what exactly happened last night that threw Zeke into a temper tantrum. Uriah looked completely calm as he went over to his brother, but we didn't stick around to see the end of it. I'm tempted to text Uriah later today and ask if everything is okay, and ask what it was about. But my better judgment kicks in, and I decide it doesn't concern me.

Christina was up really early this morning and making pancakes. She had this huge smile on her face. Her robe was slung off of one shoulder and she hummed to herself. Her bed head was what made the whole ensemble perfect.

"Thinking about Will?"

She hummed louder, and smiled wider.

"I'll take that as a yes." I smiled into my tea. It was nice to see Christina so happy. Even if a few months ago, I would have slapped her upside the head and called her crazy for even getting involved with a boy.

She slides her phone to me across the counter.

I look at the screen and see it's a message from an hour ago this morning. From Will, whose name is surrounded by hearts.

_Good morning gorgeous ;)_

Christina is swooning. Actually the way she moves about this kitchen reminds me of how Sleeping Beauty danced in the forest before Prince Philip cut in. It's graceful, and hard not to smile at. Partially because I know Christina is horrible at any kind of dancing except erotic and pole dancing. Also because she's normally a grump in the morning, so maybe I'm savoring the moment.

"Isn't he just amazing Tris?" She flips the pancakes.

I smile a little wider at her excited voice. "He seemed just fine to me Chris. Though I don't know if I can call him amazing."

She pouts a little.

Quickly rethinking what I just said, "I just mean that I've only just met him. He seems like a great guy though."

She smiles again. "You'll see just how wonderful he is. Now we just need to hook you and Stern-Faced-Four up and then we can _really _double date."

A nervous sweat breaks out on my palms. "There's no need to rush anything."

"Oh Tris, silly naïve virgin Tris." I blush, not entirely sure where she is going with this. "Just wait. He likes you. You like him. It's meant to be. I asked the universe and he told me so."

"Since when is the universe a _he_?"

"Since I say so. And don't change the subject." She leans over the counter, giving me a full view of her cleavage. I don't really care, I've seen her naked before and didn't bat an eye. This is just her muscle memory of an easy seduction technique. I wonder if she's used it on Will. Actually, no I don't want to think about that.

"We need to get you laid." She says placing a pancake in front of me.

My blush intensifies. When I'm Tris, not Raven, it's really easy to make me red by using words related to the bedroom.

"And I mean soon. Preferably before the end of the year."

"What?!" One month.

"Seriously Tris, you're 20 years, six months, and," she counts in her head for a brief moment. "18 days old."

"Must you be so specific?" I rest my head into my hand not wanting to talk about this.

"Yes I must. Honestly though, you must be the oldest virgin alive."

"I think you're exaggerating."

"Okay, well you're the only one of us girls who is still a virgin. I mean come on, even Lynn has had more action than you, and she's a lesbian."

"If you haven't noticed my predicament, I never had time for one before. I didn't have the will, the drive, the necessity, or even the option. No one wanted me, and I didn't want anyone back then."

She smiles wide. I realize I have just made a big mistake.

"Tris," Her eyes narrow as her grin becomes devilish. "You used the past tense."

"Christina." My voice is shaking. I've just set myself up badly.

"Is the virgin Tris Prior hinting that she now has someone, _wants _someone?"

"Christina don't you dare."

Her voice is calm, and it scares the shit out of me. "What's done is done Tris. I have already approved of your choice and agreed that it should happen. And now, you've admitted, to me, your best friend," she bats her eye lashes "that you, want a guy."

I put my head in my hands. Ashamed. Mortified. Anxious. Dead. Any number of emotions could describe my state right now.

A squeal escapes her. "You're not denying it! Oh this is perfect, and beautiful, and oh my God I'm so happy right now!" She waves a hand in front of her face to fan herself as her face turns slightly red as she starts hysterically laughing and practically crying. "I knew this day would come!"

I slink away quickly and quietly with my pancake to get ready. Even if I'm not that hungry.

Suddenly tired again, I slide on a dark green sweater, black leggings and a dark gray zip up hoodie. My feet find their way into my black ankle boots and I grab my bag.

Christina is in her room when I leave. Still laughing.

"One month Tris! It'll happen!" She yells as I close the door, trying not to slam it.

Susan isn't on the bus today, which I'm silently thankful for. Because now I have sex and boys and virgins on my brain. I can't help but look at every person around me and wonder if I really am the only virgin left. Even if I know it's not true. Susan is a virgin, right? I mean she's so conservative. But there was that one block party near her house I heard about, Shauna was at that party and she remembers seeing a girl of our age and Susan's description giving a boy a lap dance.

I don't want to think about that any more.

Getting to campus a little early is always on my mind. It gives me time to think over things without Christina or anyone else invading my space. In this case, I go to one of the computers labs and finish submitting my transfer request to Western Washington University. It's close to Canada, low crime rate, and near the water. Lynn has decided to apply to the University of Washington instead. And Shauna being her sister, will move to Seattle with her. We'll still be close together, but not as close. Christina, Marlene and Matthew are all going to Western with me. Matthew is applying to the graduate program.

Shauna told Tori about our plans yesterday. We all received a text late last night that Tori has agreed to it. But she's going to Seattle to pursue art. I wonder if her brother knows, or if one day he'll just find her to be gone. That's kind of how it was with Caleb and me. Only in this case, both Tori and George are adults and emotionally capable of handling this situation. Still, would she say goodbye to her only family?

The large clock in the middle of campus rings. I submit my application and head to class.

Professor Thompson is extremely tense this morning and I can't seem to figure out why. Normally if he's having a hard day, or is irritated with me for ignoring him at Dauntless he'll stare at me. But now, he completely avoids me. We break up into groups to work today, and I'm silently grateful I won't have to listen to his droning.

"You look like you had a rough morning." I glance up and see that Myra has come in to join our group.

I shrug. "I was up late last night, slept in, then had my roommate badger me about my love life this morning."

Myra snorts. "That's always fun."

"Tell me about it." I lean in and whisper so only she can hear. "She wants to get me laid by the end of the month."

Myra holds back laughter. "Well I haven't known you long, and I'm assuming she's known you longer. Either way, I wish her good luck because I feel like you're the picky type. Which isn't a bad thing by any means. Does she have someone in mind?"

I don't answer her and feel my cheeks begin to flame as she grins.

"I see." She taps her pencil as Thompson makes his second round through the groups. Looking at our progress but not speaking to anyone.

"So it's a set up matchmaker kind of deal?" She asks quietly.

"Something like that."

"What's his name?"

"Can't tell you."

She laughs. "He goes here doesn't he?"

"Sort of."

"English major?"

"I don't know. Maybe?" The heat spreads to my chest.

"Professor?"

"No."

"Would you describe him for me?"

I take in a heavy sigh. Myra was turning out to be as bad as Christina with questions and gossip. Yet I couldn't help but like their personalities. Maybe I was around them so much because I had a subconscious need to be like them. That's what Shauna would say anyway.

When class ends, Myra and I pack up. I'm still ignoring her prodding questions and she keeps asking, clearly enjoying it.

"Beatrice, would you mind hanging back a moment?"

At least five girls stop, including myself. It's an involuntary reaction to his voice. Suddenly wishing I had decided to sit closer to the exit.

I turn around and see Thompson staring down at his desk, shuffling papers.

Myra gives me an uneasy look and it doesn't help me feel any better.

"Want me to stay?" She asks quietly.

I shake my head no. I don't want her caught up in what he's probably about to confront me on. It's always the same. _Why have I ignored him at Dauntless? Why don't I answer his emails? When would I like to go out?_ Maybe it's his birthday and he wants a complementary lap dance.

Everyone files out of the room except for Thompson and me.

I stand near the exit, with a good fifteen feet of space between us. Ready to make a break if necessary.

He looks up at me through his glasses and motions for me to come closer. I don't move.

Thompson sighs heavily. "I'm not in the mood to fight Beatrice, would you please come over here."

"I'm not fighting. But I know better than to come close to you." My voice almost startles me at how snake like it was. I feel like a dog whose neck hairs have now stood up, but is not yet growling.

He takes his glasses off and purses his lips together. He's angry. I just don't know what I did this time to offend him.

"Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it at this distance."

"Are you scared of me, Beatrice?" He moves from around his desk.

My fists tighten. There's now twelve feet between us.

"No." I spit back.

Ten feet. "Because if I need you to be scared in order to listen to me, I'm willing to do it." He smiles. "Really, it'd be no trouble."

Eight feet.

"Stop." I say, my legs itching to run before he gets too close. What I wouldn't give for a camera in the room. Or even a microphone between my ever growing breasts.

"I've tried to be nice, reasonable, and give you your space. Give you time to make the decision to come to me on your own."

"You sound convinced that I actually want you."

Seven feet.

He stops and puts his hands in his pockets. "Oh, Beatrice."

"Stop saying my name."

Thompson ignores me. "Beatrice, I _know_ you want me. With all your teasing you do, it's no wonder you're a popular dancer. As for your personal life, I've noticed things too."

My throat feels tight and I take a step back. My personal life? What is he talking about? "What does that mean?"

"You flirt with me every day. You've changed your figure into that of a real woman just for me. You show up wherever I go. It must mean you want me. There simply is no other explanation. You were in my class for a reason."

"You're delusional."

"You're a tease."

"I am not." This would sound like playful banter between two people who harbored feelings for one another had it not been for his sly, crazy smile, and my fear of him.

Five feet.

"Just because my job is to tease people, doesn't mean it's my personal way of treating people."

"And how would you _treat_ me?"

Four feet.

"I wouldn't _treat_ you. I wouldn't pay any attention to you. You're nothing but a low life, perverted coward."

His smile disappears.

I turn and walk towards the exit, just three feet away, when I feel a hand on my arm.

"Don't. Call. Me. That." He growls in my ear.

My pulse shoots and I know I need to get away.

"Let go of me professor. I'm late for my next class." And I have to turn in a paper.

He yanks on my arm hard and shoves me up against the wall. A small yelp escapes my lips. I instinctively bring my other arm up in defense, ready to punch him, and to bring my knee up to hit him where it hurts, but he presses his whole body up against mine too quickly. Pinning both my arms above my head with one hand and silencing me with his other.

"I saw you in that dress last night. You wore it for me because you knew I'd follow you."

What?!

"I sat across the room so you wouldn't feel obligated to come over to me. You simply sat there looking radiant and so, so delectable. I knew I needed you, and couldn't wait."

He slides his hand from my mouth just slightly in order to stroke my cheek. Thompson's eyes darken. I feel like throwing up. My heart is hammering though my chest.

"What are you talking about?" My voice is small, his hand nears my mouth again, tracing my lips.

"I've waited long enough. Beatrice, you've made me wait long enough."

My lungs expel any air left in my lungs and my heart stops for just that one moment. "But don't worry. I know you like it rough. After all, you're a Dauntless girl, aren't you _Raven?_"

I bite down hard on his hand, I hear him yell, but don't double check that I've done enough damage. He moves just enough for me to squeeze by him. My feet running hard. Not fast enough.

Something hard hits my legs and I fall to the ground. My cheek colliding with the door handle. There's laughter behind me as I try to push myself up.

"Well I was right wasn't I? You do like it hard."

I turn just as his fist collides with my temple. Sending me to the ground once more.

_Fight back! Get up! Run! _My mind screams at me, but my world is spinning and my breaths come in an uneven form. It hurts.

He stands over me, grinning, not even cradling his hand.

Adrenaline rushes through me. I jump to my feet and bolt, but he blocks the door.

I get a jab into his gut and one to the neck but he pulls me to the ground with him. His hands yanking and stretching my hoodie. One hand finds it's way to my neck.

He smiles as he pins me underneath him. His hand flies across my face as I try to get away. I try again, but he presses his mouth to mine.

I can't breathe.

He moves on top of me and my head begins to spin. _This is not supposed to be happening._

Thompson moans into my mouth. Tears escape me. I wish I was anywhere else but here.

He moves just slightly above me again, this time freeing one of my legs for the briefest moment. I bring my knee to his groin and shove hard.

Thompson rolls off of me, holding himself and groaning.

I run. I don't know if I'm heading to class or home, they're both in the same direction. I don't look back. Even when Thompson calls me Raven as I leave the building.

I stop by one of the bathrooms in a building near my English class. I'm alone. My legs give out and I slide against the wall, I scream, kick the stall door and cry. A howling sound comes from my chest, I can still feel his fingers one me. His dark brown eyes staring at me. Blood in my mouth. My hands rake through my hair harshly as I bite my lip to try and stop the tears. It feels like I'm drowning, even though there's no water.

I don't know how long I sit there for. But when I do move, I'm stiff, weak, and feel as though I've broken.

The mirror shows me the beginning extent of what has just happened. A large purple bruise encompassing a small cut on my cheekbone where I hit the door handle and was smacked across the face. Another beginning bruise on the opposite temple where he punched my head. My hoodie was torn at the collar, and had a nice spattering of blood. From Thompson's hand or my mouth, I'm not sure. My legs throb when I walk, and I hate myself for it. I should have been stronger. I shouldn't have let him in that close. It's my fault this happened, or at least it feels like it is.

The clock in the center of campus rings. I've missed Amar's class completely. I still need to turn in the paper. Maybe he'll still be there. He comes off as a _fight your own battles_ kind of guy. Maybe he won't ask questions.

I throw my hood over my head as the rain begins to pour. It's not meant to help against the rain, so I'm completely soaked when I enter the building. Slowly making my way up the stairs, it hurts with every step. My head feels heavy, but I should stay awake, at least until I get to the diner. Then I can have Matthew look me over and officially file a report of injury to Max. All I have to do is tell my story to Eric. These bruises will in no way be covered up by tomorrow's dance. In fact, they'll probably be worse. I cringe at the lecture I know I'm going to get from Eric. _Why wasn't I more careful? Did I provoke him? _He'll say it's my fault. Peter will back him up as he always does, the little kiss ass.

The room is darker than usual, and for a moment I hope he's gone. But he's not. It looks like we watched a movie today. All the shades are drawn and the projector is still on. I'll get the notes from Christina later.

Amar doesn't notice me at first. He's leaning over the desk shuffling papers. _Just like Thompson did._

A shiver runs down my spine.

"Tris?"

How I wish he wasn't really here.

Amar picks his head up, and I'm caught between the two of them.

I can hear Four stand behind me, from his own desk. I forgot he moved it behind the door.

My whole body freezes and tenses up. Though I don't know Amar personally, I'm sure he can sense it, and I _know _Four can.

"Tris are you okay?" His voice is softer than I've ever heard it, and it leaves a warm feeling in my gut. But that's not what I'm here for. I need to get to the Pit.

I dig through my side bag and pull out the paper. Slightly crinkled from the fight. My hand shakes as I set it on the desk.

"I'm sorry I wasn't in class today." I say quietly to Amar.

He doesn't look concerned about the paper at all. He looks concerned about me.

"Beatrice," I cringe, hearing Thompson's voice again and again in my head. Hearing him moan my name. Tears threaten once more and I bite my lip, hanging my head.

Amar noticed. "Is that your blood?" His voice is well beyond worried. I had hoped the darkening of my sweatshirt of the rain would hide it.

I turn to leave, but run right into Four. A small squeak escapes me and I jump back at the closeness of a male figure.

Four reaches up tentatively and pulls of my hood, sucking in a gasp and making a hard "instructor" type face.

Before they can say anything, I run once more.

He's calling for me. He's actually chasing me. It terrifies me even more. I run harder, tears escaping once more as it hurts to move.

Out the building the rain has continued to increase and I slip on the pavement, falling on my side, and crying out.

"Tris!" He yells. Kneeling before me, reaching for me.

"Don't touch me!" I scream before he gets too close. That hits something deep inside him. I can see the anguish in his eyes. His clothing is already soaked. He just kneels there in front of me, waiting for me to move. But I don't. I just begin to cry.

I feel crushed, defeated, and humiliated.

"For God's sake Tris," He groans and picks me up to stand on my feet. But then he lets me go. His eyes trained on my swollen lip from the fall just now, and the other visible bruises on my face.

"What happened?" He demands. "What happened?!"

"Why?! Why do you care what happened?!"

"Because I-" He stops and stares deep into my eyes. He looks pained, as though he wants to help. Suddenly I want him to just wrap his arms around me, so that I can burry myself in his chest, cry, and disappear from the world forever. He'd help me disappear.

"I care about you." He says finally.

A small, pathetic laugh escapes me. "Why? Look at me! I'm not worth caring about, I'm a mess!"

"Messes can be fixed. You just need to put someone to put in the effort."

I don't respond.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

He groans. "Why won't you tell me?"

"Why should I?"

He glares at me. "I thought you were the one who said not to answer a question with a question."

I turn to walk away. Not in the mood to banter with him. Wincing with every step, he notices.

"You're hurt. And by the looks of it, not by falling down a flight of stairs."

"You're right Four. I fell down _two_ flights of stairs."

He puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch away and let out a cry once more.

"Tris tell me what happened."

"No." He's too close to me.

"Why are you running from me when I'm trying to help?"

"Because I don't trust you!" I scream. "I don't know you, I don't want to know you, I don't want to be anywhere near you! Every time I let someone into my life, everything goes from bad to worse!" I scream at him, and it burns. Cracking at the end as more tears fill my eyes.

"Nothing makes sense and all I know is that being away from you is so much easier! You're so confusing, and you made me like you and I'm not supposed to like you, so it's better if you just go!"

If feels as though a ton of bricks has hit my stomach when I realize what I just said.

He looks stunned, but his face is hard as stone.

Four looks like he wants to say something but decides against it. His fists are clenched, and so are mine. We stare at each other. Me the broken stripper, and him, the walking anomaly.

Without a word, he turns and walks away.

"Four," My voice cracks.

He stops. "I'll leave you alone then." And keeps walking.

Tears threaten me once more, this time to drown me. I run again. Towards the diner, away from Four, my confession and away from that horrible confrontation. I want to scream until my legs give out and my chest bursts open.

I practically knock the back door down where Matthew is waiting for me.

"Chris said you didn't go to class and weren't answering your phone . . . Tris?" He looks at my face. "Oh my God what happened?"

I don't answer him.

Shauna comes in and sees me. She goes into mom-mode immediately. "She's in shock. Matthew take off her clothes, she soaked. I'll get blankets."

Matthew obeys. I just stand there. Staring into nothing. My legs fail me as he's pulling down my leggings. A cry rips from my throat once more. Matthew catches me before I hit the ground, and lays me down gently.

"I'm so sorry Tris." He continues to remove my clothing.

Shauna comes back in to remove my undergarments and puts my dry work shirt on and my back-up pair of pants from my locker. She slides four or five blankets under me, around me and encasing me.

"Keep her awake, I think she has a concussion." She tells him.

By this point, the guard dog of the day, Harrison has come in to see what the commotion is about. He sees me on the ground and looks worried but doesn't say anything.

Shauna kneels beside me and begins to place a warm, wet washcloth on my face, slowly wiping away dried blood and trying to keep my already wet hair dry at the same time.

She turns back to Harrison. "She's in shock. She can't work like this. I think she needs a doctor."

Harrison stiffens at the sound of her suggestion, but in rare cases, it needs to be done. He nods. "I'll take her to get checked out. I expect full reports of this by tomorrow for Max."

"Should we call him now?" Matthew asks.

Harrison shakes his head, "I'll call him from the car. He's much less likely to fire me for telling him one of his best dancers is down than you."

Both Matthew and Shauna share a look that I would have given as well. _It wouldn't be the end of the world if being "fired" by Max only meant you're out of a job._

Harrison picks me up, blankets and all, and carries me out to his car. Driving me to the hospital was a silent affair. I laid down in the back seat and stared into nothing.

He deposited me with some nurses and told them to fix me in the nicest way possible. One of the nurses recognized Harrison as a member of Max's armada and specifically took me. I don't know her name. But I know that Max has at least one nurse and doctor pair in here that will look at dancers and not breathe a word of it.

She stuck an I.V in my arm and began the drip. I was sleepy. She told me not to go to sleep, but I couldn't hold out.

The last thing I remember, was seeing Nita on her phone, the word "Four" left her lips as she looked over at me, almost concerned.

Then I was gone.

****Just as a note, Western Washington University is a real place. Please don't hate me! Haha, this was surprisingly a really easy chapter to write over the course of two days. Hope you guys enjoyed! We're really cooking things now ;)****

**Please review!****


	20. Chapter 20

****You guys realize you have left me over 400 reviews for this story?! This is so much better than I could have EVER hoped for and I love you guys for it!**

**Oh and uh, sorry about the cliff hanger last chapter, LOL. Don't you just hate that? Imagine if I had just stopped writing after that chapter and called it quits. . . I feel like I would have gotten angry reviews from you readers. But fear not! For I am not done, and probably won't be for a while.**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE REMINDER:**

**I received a message from one of my readers that I should consider raising the rating on this story from T to M because of the last chapter. Well, I don't want to raise it. So here's the deal-e-o. The last chapter where Tris is assaulted, has been modified to better fit a T rating. The original chapter which verges more on the M side of things, has been uploaded as a side to this story. It's on my page titled Into the Night M Scenes (partially so it's easy to find, but also because I have no idea if I want more scenes like that coming up). Anyone who prefers that version of what happened is more than welcome to read it in place of Chapter 19. But as of now, my rating will remain a T.**

**Slight warning for the future, I will restrain from putting intense scenes in my writing since this story is a T. However, like in this chapter, and a few previous chapters, there may be a few swear words here and there. The T rating on FanFiction is the equivalent of a PG13 rating on a movie ("**Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes**"). And as anyone who has ever seen a PG13 movie, you know there is some occasional swearing. So I'm sorry if swearing offends you, but this is just an official heads up.**

**I can't tell you guys how much it means to me that you have stuck with this story and put up with my inconsistent updating! Thanks a billion. Free mental hugs for everyone!**

**We got a long one now!****

**Tris POV - Tuesday, December 2****nd**

Not many things earn you a trip to Max's office. Especially when you know that after going there, you'll still be in a job, and breathing. My second visit to the hospital in two weeks is what did it this time. Even though the first one technically wasn't my fault. How was I supposed to know how badly I'd react to their serum? Which by the way, was working perfectly according to Eric last I saw him.

His headquarters are still within the city limits, but closer to the Amity compound than any other faction perimeter. He takes up four of the higher floors in the Nakyma Building. Hiding under the business name of Caldwell Industries, a small banking business of sorts. Since he handles a lot of money, it would only make sense for him to be a banker, except Max is terrible with numbers.

Everyone involved, Shauna, Matthew, and Harrison submitted reports of my incident. I would normally submit one too since I was the victim of sorts, but Max has called me to his office instead.

Eric drives me. I would normally be at the Pit right now, and he would normally be getting ready for our dance tonight, but he said Peter's able to handle it. We're having a special theme in honor of me. Blood Night. Bruises, cuts, bumps, the whole thing on display. Everyone is getting sprayed on color to make them look like they just came out of a nasty fight. We've only had this night a few other times, generally no more than once a year. But when it does happen, word travels fast and it's much easier for the dancers to be manhandled without any customer getting in trouble. I don't like this night. I've gotten a black eye once fighting with a customer who was being grabby with Cara. Christina has come back with some scrapes after a private dance. And Shauna was actually cut with a knife once. There will be extra security tonight, but that doesn't make me feel any better.

I glance up at Eric once or twice. He's not that much older than me, actually I don't know if he's older than Tori or even Shauna. His mouth is set in a hard line as usual, and he grips the steering wheel like it's the only thing keeping him from strangling someone. He wears all black and has an extra stud piercing in his ear today.

Dancers have been beaten up and sent to the hospital before, but I think my two in this short of time has set a record.

They didn't even know about the first one until I mumbled something while under a relaxing drug of some kind. I remember seeing Nita, and instantly flashed back to when Four was flirting with her at the foot of my bed, and my mouth took off. The Doctor under Max's employment sought Nita out to confirm that I had been here recently before and she gave them my uncompleted chart.

Eric was furious when he first found out, but calmed down enough to drive me over.

We pull into the parking garage and head over to the elevator. They gave me a few pain meds so it doesn't hurt as much to walk. But after a full body examination, I had bruising between my legs. They asked me if I had been raped, but I told them no. They weren't satisfied with my answer so they did a rape kit anyway. It was humiliating. The nurse held my hand the whole time and told me it would be okay, as if she knew.

Christina was also furious with me for not responding to her texts and calls. I got home late last night after the examination, even though they encouraged me to stay in the hospital overnight. She was pissed, going off the wall and screamed at me for scaring her. Then she broke down crying that she was worried. After she got a look at the damages to my body she cried some more, and drew me a hot bath.

I didn't talk about it with her. No matter how much she prodded me and scolded me. No matter how hysterical and emotional she was. I didn't say anything to her. Harrison gave her a small briefing when he dropped me off. Even this morning I didn't talk to her. It's better if she doesn't know. Isn't it?

I woke this morning to a banging at the door. Eric was here to take me to Max's office. It was already noon.

After changing, I picked up my phone and saw a missed call from an unknown number. No voicemail. Instantly my mind went to Four, but I don't want to get my hopes up. I also had six missed text messages and a phone call from Shauna. I didn't reply to any of them.

The elevator dings on Max's floor. Eric makes me get out first so I won't run off.

The walls and staff walking by us would make anyone else think that this is a simple, normal office renting out space in a building. No one in here looks like they could immediately kill you, though most probably could. They were simple suits, no one in all black. I recognize a few who have doubled as guard dogs for Max at Dauntless and the Pit. A few have even attended our dancing nights as customers.

The very first time I was up here was to fill out my application and information for the job. The second time was because I went A-Wall on a customer who almost jumped Christina. Turns out he had a knife in his pocket too. It was a complete gut feeling when I saw them go behind a door together for a private dance and it ended up being right. The story we told Eric and Max was that I saw the knife and went in there to help out a fellow dancer. That was three years ago.

This marks the third time.

Harrison sits in the office right outside of Max's. He picks his head up when Eric and I walk by, but he doesn't say anything. Paperwork boxes him in on his desk. I would hate to think Harrison got in trouble just for being the one to take me to the hospital.

Eric knocks on the door, and doesn't wait for Max to answer.

We should have waited.

Max sits at his desk leaning over a document with a woman in a blue pencil skirt and white blouse. Her blonde hair is in a tight bun at the back of her head. Almost exactly the way my mother used to wear her hair on a daily basis. But hers is stricter, formal, and pristine. Both she and Max flinch as we enter. Only Max looks up at us.

"Eric. This is unacceptable, barging in like that." Max almost growls.

Eric mumbles something under his breath and hauls me back out.

"You couldn't have just waited?" Harrison snickers at Eric as he closes the door.

"Fuck off desk duty."

"Desk duty?" I ask, my voice still hoarse.

Harrison looks up at me, contemplating whether or not he should answer.

"You didn't get desk duty from me, did you?" I take a step towards Harrison's desk.

He doesn't say anything, just looks back down to his work. Whatever it is Max is having him do.

The door to Max's office opens, and I get another glimpse of the woman walking out. She has a pinched face, and cold eyes. She doesn't look at anyone and holds herself as though she thinks she's above the rest of the world.

Eric nods to her, but she hardly acknowledges him.

"Prior." Max calls sternly. I turn and walk obediently into the office. Eric right behind me. "Sit."

I take a seat in the red chair in front of his desk that the woman was currently seated in. Eric stands behind me against the wall, his arms folded over his chest no doubt.

Max wears a simple dress shirt and pants, though he doesn't look very comfortable in them. He fidgets with the tie constantly. It's very distracting. But at this point, anything would be a welcome distraction. I'd give anything for a bird to hit the window, or for the fire alarm to go off.

"What do you think?" Max asks looking directly at me.

What do I think about _what_?

"I think she gets one more chance. Then she's out." Eric says.

"One more chance." Max repeats.

"One more chance for what?" I ask.

Eric huffs. "To not screw up. You've been to the hospital twice in less than three weeks."

"Less than two weeks." Max says.

I fold my arms across my chest in frustration. "One of those wasn't even my fault."

Max looks confused for a moment. "You were brought to the hospital by Harrison on assault wounds yesterday afternoon. And before that you were in the hospital for passing out back stage."

"Passing out?" My eyes widen. That's what you call getting knocked out by a non-approved serum to enhance your womanly figure?!

"You didn't eat anything that day Tris. It's your own fault." Eric says quickly.

I whip my head around and look at him. He's giving me a very stern look, equivalent to someone harshly whispering in my ear to _shut your mouth or else._

I look back at Max, who is waiting for an alternate explanation. "Is that not what happened, Prior?"

"I. . . It is. I just . . ." Glancing back at Eric, "I just don't have a good memory of that incident. The whole thing is fuzzy to me."

Max leans back in his chair and watches me carefully. "Listen Prior, I've been talking with Eric, and you've been bringing in good crowds to Dauntless. Loyal customers and a list of regulars that hits the floor. It's impressive to say the least. However, we've had to let go of a few girls recently due to, unsavory behavior on their part, and now need those spots filled. As one of our best dancers, I also wanted to ask you, if you knew of any young, attractive lady who would be interested in a job."

"As a dancer?" My mouth feels dry.

The corners of his mouth turn up. "Yes. Currently we have need for one Abnegation, two Erudite and one Candor. It's already in the works to move your friend Miss Carlyle to Candor once she finishes schooling in a year or two. But we need another girl to fill that spot now. We also have a switch in the works from Abnegation to Amity and another from Erudite to Abnegation. Regrettably we've had to let three dancers go to the Gutter."

Which means some of the more experienced Gutter dancers are now lying in a ditch somewhere to make room for the new ones.

"We've also toyed with the idea of moving your fellow dancer Miss Wu to Erudite. She's is getting too old for Dauntless. Men and women who go to your club, expect to see young, healthy, beautiful girls. Unfortunately, Miss Wu is reaching her Dauntless expiration date. We will offer her the position in Erudite at the end of the year. If she accepts, then we will need to fill one spot in Dauntless and one less in Erudite. If she doesn't, then she will join the Gutter."

A shiver runs down my spine as I feel Eric move closer to me, also unsure as to why Max is telling me this.

"More to the point, I wanted to give you a notice while you're here. We are also talking about moving you, to Erudite."

Everything stops. The noise, the air, the light, everything.

"Max you can't be serious! She's my best girl!" Eric yells, suddenly very pissed off. "She doesn't even have the right credentials to be in Erudite."

"We're only talking about it. No decisions have been made." Max argues. He looks at me then. "You have had a little too much freedom flirting around in Dauntless." Back to Eric. "You, need to keep her on a tighter leash. If she messes up again, I'll be forced to make an example of her."

Eric slams his fist down on the desk. "This is unacceptable! You've always included me on your decisions and the process. You always let me know _first_, if one of my girls is being taken from me."

Max's face is dark. Though I'm happy Eric is fighting to keep me, I can see the frustration and embarrassment behind Max. Eric isn't supposed to question him or back talk if someone like me is in the room. It makes Max look incompetent.

"I'll let you know when I have a decision Eric. You're dismissed. Both of you." He stays standing, trying to exert dominance over Eric. You can smell the testosterone.

I stand up and walk quietly over to the door. Eric follows me. I'm dreading the ride back with him like this. He tends to speed or drive recklessly.

"Max doesn't know about the experiment." I say as we walk to the car.

"Obviously." He growls at me.

"You're working with Jeanine alone."

Eric grabs me arm hard. I wince and release a small cry, my bruise from Thompson still present. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, you're dead. Understood?"

I nod quickly. Hating that I just showed him that I'm scared, but I'm still trying to wrangle my emotions from last night. Though maybe it's better he think I'm scared right now. It I become defiant too fast, Eric and Max will cart me off to the Gutter.

We drive straight to Dauntless, rather than have me spend the last hour of work at the Pit. Eric has kept a close eye on me all day. After being discharged from the hospital last night, he brought me to my apartment. Made me shower and change clothes, taking some pain meds given to me by the doctor under Max's thumb. I'm starting to wonder if everyone is more under Eric's thumb instead.

Nita came to visit my room once to check up on me. Eric growled at her to get out since he didn't know her. But it quickly turned into flirting. In the process, Nita slipped me a piece of paper. I read it when Eric went to get some food.

_Stay away from Four._

I still have the note shoved deep into my pocket. It's a load of bricks holding me under water as I claw for the surface.

I can't stay away from him. And who is she to tell me to do so? I'll see him in class tomorrow.

Oh God I'll see him. . . I yelled at him. I admitted how I felt. I told him to back off.

He didn't fight me. Did I think he would?

It's been 24 hours, and I miss him. Fuck. Maybe everything in my life just goes from bad to worse because that's what I am. A magnet for bad things. If feels like everyone who gets close to me, will eventually get hurt or leave. And there's nothing I can do to prevent it. So perhaps it'd for the best that he just stays away. It'd be easier after all.

He won't talk to me. He won't text me. He won't come near me. I won't ask him to share my secret. I won't ask him to come to Dauntless on New Year's Eve. I won't ask him to buy me. I won't tell him we're leaving because I'm not going.

Except now I feel even worse.

I have nothing to do at Dauntless except get ready, and since I don't need to be sprayed down with bruises, it goes by even faster. Eric keeps looking at me strangely, especially when he gives me my fifth shot.

"Stay in line Tris. Don't draw too much attention to yourself and you won't get hurt." He says sternly as he throws the needle away.

"It's not like I asked for this okay?" I can see some files on his desk, names and pictures on them. I don't recognize any of them. Maybe they're the candidates for the new dancers at one of the clubs Max was talking about.

"But you probably could have taken steps to prevent it." He says roughly. "Now we have to ban one of our regular customers. That's less income for the club, for me, and for you."

I can feel my face heat up with embarrassment that I know I shouldn't be feeling.

"You know how to fight, and you know when to get away from a situation. So why didn't you?"

"So you're blaming _me_ for his actions?" My voice rises.

He doesn't say anything else, but I can read it in his face. _Don't talk back to me. Don't question me. Get out of my office._

So I do.

I stomp over like a child to my dressing station and start piling make up on, make up to highlight my bruising and other wounds. I also ring my eyes with extra thick black pencil and smudge it out in an exaggerated way. Raccoon eyes. Next I go to the large closet that houses our outfits and pull on my newest outfit in a garment bag on a dark green hanger. Everyone has a new outfit tonight. We're supposed to look like victims of abuse in one way or another.

It was a short notice to get the word out to Dauntless members and customers that there will be this theme tonight. They've talked about doing a night like this for a long time, but never followed through with it. I just gave them a reason.

My outfit is almost like a slutty maid's. Frilly black and white top that has a plunging neckline. My midriff shows, highlighting the finger bruises where he pinned me to the ground. I feel cold all of a sudden, wanting to cover them up. The skirt is black and red with frills on the tail. The whole thing looks like I bled on it, and one of the sleeves on the top is ripped on purpose.

I go back to my station, ignoring shoes completely tonight. I swipe on blood red lipstick, and make my cheeks just a bit paler where there's no bruising. I pin some fake diamond stud earrings on, and slide my wig on to finish. Except Raven's hair looks too put together in a messy pony tonight. Once it's secure on my head, I shake out the hair and remove the pony tail, letting the black hair drift everywhere.

Peter walks by my station and jumps when he sees me.

"Jesus Christ Prior!"

I glare at him for using my name.

"I know this is Blood Night, but God damn . . . you look like a psycho."

"Thanks Peter." I mutter under my breath.

The other girls come in fairly shortly after. None of them really say anything to me, except Tori. She walks up to me and nods at me to follow her outside. I do.

Glo stands by the door and doesn't look me in the eye either. There are two other security guards on the outside of the back door too. Like I guessed, extra security.

The air is cold outside, but the darkness of the night hides my body.

Tori stands just a foot or so away from me, and stares at me. For a few minutes she doesn't say anything. She takes a few deep breaths like she wants to talk, but just exhales. She doesn't look at me like a kicked puppy or a victim. She looks at me like she would any other night. Then, she does something that Tori Wu _never_ does. She hugged me. Her arms were around me and closed me into her before I could try to talk or worm my way out.

"I'm sorry Tris." Her voice is low and shy. "I heard what happened. I know how you're feeling right now."

She pulls from me and rests her hands gently on my shoulders.

"When I started here, I was seventeen. The newest, youngest face. I had all the attention, even when I didn't want it. One customer got too grabby with me and ended up leaving marks. Bad ones. I was in the hospital for two days. Max took pity on me at first, but then told me to shape up and learn how to defend myself. So I did." Before I interrupt her she says, "Now I know you can defend yourself just fine. I just want you to know, that sometimes things like this happen to us, and there's nothing we can do about them. Sometimes, it's just the way it is. You have to live with it, and move on. But don't push everyone else away in the process. I did, and I lost all my friends. So whenever a new girl came in to Dauntless, I kept my distance for the most part. I'm telling you Tris, so that you won't end up alone like me."

Tori walks away from me then, and back into Dauntless.

I grit my teeth and fight the urge to scream once more. I know I shouldn't push them away right now, but my instinct is to ignore them.

Molly comes in late as usual. She heard about my condition too, and sneered at me backstage the whole time we were getting ready.

Christina's character tonight is an escaped convicted murderer. Shauna is a burn victim. Lynn is a beat up prostitute. Molly is a stab victim. Marlene and Tori are a pair of beat up slaves. I'm supposed to be the maid who gets abused when the wife isn't around.

After walking barefoot for a while backstage, I notice the amount of dirt and grime on my feet. It actually goes well with the character Raven is playing tonight. I add some silver looking cuffs to my wrist, making it appear as though I recently escaped a torturous situation.

I'm about to walk on when Eric stops me.

"No shoes?"

I shake my head and go with it.

The lights are red on the stage. The music is low and full of base. The dance floor and the walls are covered in red and black decorations, with knives, clubs, guns, all fake of course. Christina swings in on one of the ropes first, getting a howl from the crowd. Shauna and Lynn make their way on next, swaying their hips, but falling to the ground every so often on purpose. Tori and Marlene are a pair chained together by the neck. The music becomes more intense.

When I go out, I don't walk, I crawl, on my hands and knees, one after the other, slowly, sensually, yet I carry the weight of a damaged girl on my back.

I slide onto the end of the runway platform and writhe on the ground, crying out against the sounds of bass and animalistic cries of desperate men. Money is shoved at me. I don't have my boots so there's nowhere to put it. I take the money greedily, with wide innocent eyes as a cover for Raven's character. The men eat it up. Running backstage I dump the money on my station and go right back out.

Passing myself through the crowd as a beggar isn't something I'd call a highlight, but these guys like it when a girl is on their knees begging. It's pathetic.

They grab at my exposed skin, they grab at my bruises. I hiss and reel away in pain, and even allow my eyes to water. Now the men take pity on me and give me even more money. It's ridiculous.

I make multiple trips throughout the night going back and forth, dumping my money on my station and then going right back for more. One man even hands me three hundred dollars in cash for a moment of my time. Eric's rules say they have to book me for a private dance before they can have me alone, but in this case I make an exception. He's your typical business looking man, young and very attractive. Ice gray eyes, and copper hair. He comments on my hands, my eyes. Then he looks over my bruises.

"These are real." His voice is silky. Much too silky for my taste. Yet, I don't feel threatened by him. Intimidated sure, but not in any danger.

"What are you talking about?" Raven asks innocently.

"You can drop the act for a moment. I've been watching you," my throat tightens. "Because you're the only girl here with _real _bruises."

"How would you know that?"

"I know what bruises look like." He says quietly, and his eyes darken. "Watch out for yourself." He hands me another hundred dollar bill. "Laters baby."

I watch him walk off, well, more like sauntering off, as though he owned the world. Then again, looking at him, he just might.

After dropping off my newest tip, I'm startled to see Marlene and Molly arguing, when the next act is about to go on. They're both in it, and Molly actually leads it.

Their voices are heated and growing.

"I know you took it!" Molly practically screams.

Marlene looks more pissed off than I've ever seen her and it's freaky. "I did not steal your tips!"

"Yes you did! They were right here on my station and you went back here directly after I did!"

"That doesn't prove anything! Check me or my station! I. Did. Not. Take. It."

Marlene turns to walk away when Molly grabs her hair and yanks. The wig comes off first, but then again, Marlene's wig hair is mixed evenly with her own.

She screeches at the harsh yank, and stumbles backwards.

Molly claws at her for just a moment, but soon Molly is on the ground. Marlene may be small, but she knows how to use her weight. Anyone watching could tell that she's fought like this before. I should intervene. But I'm in enough trouble as it is. Then again, maybe it's better if Eric focuses on me and no one else. That way everyone else will have a chance.

They switch again, and Molly draws blood from Marlene. The music is too loud for anyone else to hear.

I jump. Ignoring the fact that every time I move, a deep, painful ache vibrates through me.

Soon, Molly is under me and we're rolling. Her eyes widen at the surprise attack, but she goes into a defensive mode soon after. I try my best to pin her, but I'm too light, and she's too much. I go for pressure points while her nails rake down my arms.

It isn't until my third scream in pain that someone else comes in.

"What the Hell is going on?!" Eric's voice booms. Marlene stands behind him nodding to me.

Peter is by our side in an instant pulling Molly off of me. I scramble to my feet, happy to see that I gave her a _real_ black eye, or at least the beginnings of one.

Molly is snarling and glaring at Peter. She yells at him to get off of her as she tries to push him off. But Peter, like Marlene, is stronger than he looks. His face is stern and if I'm not mistaken, filled with disappointment directed at Molly. Were they friends?

"She stole my tips!" Molly turned to Eric pointing at Marlene. "Then _she_," Molly points to me. "Jumped me for no reason and started beating me.

Eric turns to Marlene. "That true Cherry?"

Marlene glared at Eric. "Not at all. I came back here to find her rummaging through her station _and_ mine, claiming that I stole her tips, when I didn't. Check my station, my body or anything that belongs to me. You won't find them on me." I believe her.

Eric doesn't need more complications. Most of the girls have come back stage now, wondering when the next act is supposed to start.

"Paris, Candy, Raven, Bambi!" He yells. Tori, Christina, Shauna and I perk up. "Get out on the floor. Bambi on the swing."

We obey with a nod of our heads and go back out. The crowd had gotten restless. I looked up to Al's position in the rafters as Shauna climbed the backstage stairs to the swing. Al wasn't there. But the music was still playing.

The three of us on stage break out into one of our more traditional dances known as Elimination. It starts with three people, and gradually, one falls off the stage into waiting arms of customers, then the final two dance it out until the other falls off. There's mock fighting in it and dance offs. Tori begins, giving us a fierce look when she looks at us. Christina is next, the music changes just a bit, and I can see Al's shape up top now. Her dancing with the pole is erotic and memorizing. When my turn comes on, my music is just a little softer, but with more bass. My moves are based on clapping, stomping, and spinning.

We go at it for two minutes before Christina concedes, then fairly soon, I realize that Tori is going to win this one. It's okay. I make a motion for her to knock me off and she complies.

In our act, she grabs my blouse and pulls my face close to hers scowling.

"Remember what I said." She says low and through her teeth. Then she pushes me into the crowd.

I fall into a pile of hands, shoulders and arms. Money flies and I'm pulled up to my feet. Recovering quickly with my signature Raven stare. Tori basks in her win and Christina is already giving someone else a lap dance.

Peter finds me an hour before closing and tells me that Molly was scheduled for a fifteen minute private dance and tells me to take her place. Room six. I nod and walk off.

It's just a group of older men, all married. They don't wear rings, but there's a defined tan line on their ring fingers. They look as though they're in a meeting of sorts, and I'm just the entertainment. That's okay. I'd rather them not pay that much attention to me anyway. It gives me more freedom to wince. After all, I was just attacked, and in a cat fight of sorts all within the last thirty six hours. I refused excess pain meds last night, but I think I'll need them for tomorrow.

My steps stumble slightly as I think about tomorrow. I'll be in Thompson's class again. I'll have to see him. He'll see I'm damaged. What if he tries something again? But that means I also have to see Four again. How can I face him after my confession? One thing's for certain, I can't show either one of them that I've been hurt. I need to hold my head up and pretend that nothing is wrong. _Unless that makes him angry. _I don't even know which _he_ I'm talking about now.

When the night is over, I trudge backstage where Peter is counting the money. Shauna is ahead of me. She looks proud. Peter mumbles something to her and sends her off with a few twenty dollar bills. Must be a bonus Eric told him to give her.

I walk up next, seeing Lynn and Tori dressing back into their regular clothes. I don't see Christina, Marlene or Molly.

"What happened?" I ask Lynn as I pass her.

"Marlene was sent home to collect herself." She quiets down. "Molly's out."

A brick forms in my stomach. "Gutter?"

She nods. Eric will probably make some announcement about it tomorrow. And even though I didn't like Molly that much, I wouldn't wish the Gutter on any dancer.

"The money?" I ask.

"Has yet to be found." She says and keeps walking.

Peter watches carefully as I pile all of the money I made tonight onto the table. "Wow Raven," he says after counting it and recording on his clipboard. "You've never brought this much in. It's impressive." He hands me a few twenties as well, saying something about bonuses for the night. Then he laughs to himself and mumbles. "You should get beat up more often."

I stop in my tracks and look at him head on. "What did you say?"

He's still smirking. "I mean think about it. We've never done a Blood Night before and this has to be one of the best nights we've ever had. And it's all thanks to you letting your guard down and getting beat up."

I tried to stop myself. Really I did. But I was tired. Fed up. Angry. And most of all, I'd wanted to do it for a really, _really _long time. My fist connects with his head in one quick jab, and Peter falls to a heap on the ground, out.

I don't even register the pain in my hand. My mind is completely numb. So numb, I don't hear Eric walk up behind me and shoot pain meds into my arm until he pulls the needle out.

"Hey." My words slur just slightly. "Wha'd you do?" I look at my arm. Just a single dot of blood where the needle left. "Tha hurt-t." And then I giggle. I can't help it. It just comes out free and happy.

He picks me up and sets me on my station. Eric doesn't say anything to me, but he yells for Candy.

"I know where she is." I laugh. "She's in my phone." I pick it up and scroll through my contacts looking for the smiling picture next to her name.

"Click." I smile into the phone. It begins to ring. And a male voice picks up. It's familiar, but not.

"Hey Candy!" I giggle, not caring that she sounds very masculine right now. "I'm in a little trouble . . ." My words slur once again feeling tired. I look over at Eric who rolls his eyes at me. "Frowny over here, thinks I've been bad. He gave me something to make me feel good, but I'm tired. Just tired. There's no more pain! It's com-pete-ly gone!" Eric reaches for the phone suddenly, and urgent look on his face. I laugh again, my chest feeling tight and my face hot. "Woah, grabby Mister! Don't touch me." More laughter. "Anyhoosies, Ca-nd-ee!" I sing her name, feeling light as a feather. "I need you here." Then I close the phone and lie down on the station. Eric grabs the phone and scrolls for something. He swears under his breath and puts my phone back in my bag.

"You're weird Eri-ck." I let out a tired happy giggle and close my eyes. "Nap time."

**** Did you guys catch my cameo? Lol it was short, but maybe some of you will recognize ****_him :)_**

**Please review!****


	21. Chapter 21

****Quick note on my updates: School for me starts this Thursday, and I'm taking four classes, while working a part time job and currently searching for a second (College is ssoooo expensive). So I can't guarantee a regular updating schedule and make no promises for when chapters will be up. As of late, I have been updating regularly every Tuesday, but that might change. Sorry****

****Hello there peeps! I had so many reviews for the last chapter, specifically about who it was that Tris called on her phone... MUAHHAHAHA that was so much fun to see you guys do some detective work to guess who it was! And congratulations to Rensie, AnselElgortLover17, sharonlee23, emsko dandancristine, bpaulus, , and Divergent Kitty (I can give you an imaginary cookie) for figuring out my cameo guest appearance! Haha I thought since it is _Blood Night_ after all, we have to have someone with an experience similar to that. For those of you who are still confused as to who the cameo was, it was Christian Grey!**

**And now for those of you who figured out who it was Tris called on her phone, MAJOR CONGRATS TO YOU BECAUSE YOU EARNED YOURSELF GOLD STARS! I won't say who it is that Tris called, because you need to read this chapter to learn for yourself. Only 2 people left reviews asking about this mystery caller. But as a hint, remember guys, Tris doesn't have Four's number….**

**Few days time jump!****

**Tris POV – Sunday, December 7****th**

Finals are coming up. Anyone walking through campus can feel it. The air, although colder, is heavier. Under eye-bags are more prominent. The coffee line at the on-campus Starbucks is a mile long. The library is crowded with upperclassmen and a few freshman who have figured out that you need to start studying weeks in advance for college finals. Everything feels slower, more run down, and my bed sounds more comfortable than anything right now. Maybe that's why I haven't gotten out of bed yet, and it's almost noon.

Christina got up not that long ago, and I can hear her in the shower. Hot water beating down on me sounds good, but I really don't want to get up. I recently added a new blanket to my bed since our heat is a little sketchy in the apartment, and it feels like heaven.

I checked my phone for any new messages, emails or calls. Nothing except a text from Christina the night of December 2nd, letting me know that she was heading home while I was still collecting my tips for the night. She came down with the flu that night and Eric let her off the hook for work on Wednesday.

I ask Christina how my message sounded when I called her that night in my drugged state. She had given me a blank look, and said _"What message? You never called me."_

She showed me the logs in her phone to prove it.

A slight panic had run through me, because if I didn't call Christina, who had I called? I looked through my phone, but Eric must have deleted the data when he snatched my phone away from me.

It isn't until around 1:30 that Christina finally bangs on my door for me to get up. She threatens to pour cold water on my head if I don't. It scares me and my newly found warmth even though I know she would never follow through. She knows too well that I'd get her back for it.

I drag my body, still wrapped in a blanket to the bathroom and turn on the hot water. Surprisingly, Christina left some for me.

Taking a quick peak at myself in the mirror as I shed my night clothing, I look over my skin. The bruises are yellow and faded, and the scratch marks Molly gave me just look like under-scab skin, an off white color. Those pain meds that Eric shot me up with on Tuesday after I knocked Peter out really took it's toll on me. I could barely move the next morning. But most of the pain was gone. Shauna told me how she had a similar experience with whatever Eric really shot me up with. It was in her first year as a dancer and she had a mental break after almost being assaulted. He gave her the drug and she was much happier in seconds. She called it _Peace Serum._

Then there's the whole deal about my new body experiment. Max doesn't know that Eric and Jeanine are testing on me together. Some of my new C cup bras still have the tags on them just in case the experiment isn't permanent. I had my seventh and final shot of the trial last night. I really hope the change isn't permanent, _and_ that if they deem the trial a success, that they leave me out of the real thing. I wonder if there were any other girls on the trial, maybe in Erudite.

After washing my hair and shaving, I walk back to my room, towel around my hair, and my blanket back around my body. Christina was making some hot soup and asked if I wanted some.

"Is it tomato?" I ask, a slight discomfort on my face. The last time I had tomato I got sick, but it was because of food poisoning the night before. Ever since, the smell of tomato soup has made my stomach roll in a less than comfortable manner.

She shakes her head. "Chicken noodle."

"I'll have some." I walk back into my room, depositing the blanket back on my bed. Dressing in plain dark blue jeans, and a dark gray long sleeved shirt. I throw on my black Central Chicago University sweatshirt on over top. And for even more warmth, I slide on some lime green fuzzy socks I got for Christmas from Lynn and Shauna last year, and step into my slippers.

I subconsciously reach for my mother's necklace hanging on my wall, like I do every year on this day. The day my parent's died. Four years ago. It still makes me sad, but I've learned to push it out and move on because I have to. Some might say that's unhealthy. Really though, I'm not striving to be the perfect role model in life.

"Soup's ready!" Christina calls from the kitchen.

I walk out and take the bowl she hands me, giving me a once over look at my outfit.

"Cold much?"

"Hush." I tell her quickly as I sip the hot salty, artificially chicken flavored liquid. It goes down burning my tongue in the process, but I don't care. It tastes good.

She sits on our small couch together and puts in a Disney movie. Tangled. Her favorite.

Halfway through Mother Gothel's first number, we've finished our soup and are talking quietly with each other on the couch, curled up like siblings keeping warm. Christina swoons when Flynn Rider shows up, thinking that he's the best Disney prince yet. I'm more of a Prince Philip kind of girl, although I've always harbored a crush on Dimitri from Anastasia, even if he's technically not a Disney prince. He's stubborn enough to be his own person, has a good heart, and when the time comes he would never let anything bad happen to those he cares about.

When we've finished the floating lantern scene, and Christina singing along with the song "I See the Light", a knock at the door startles both of us.

Christina gets up first, with me close behind her. The last time someone knocked on our door it was Eric to take me to Max's office.

She looks through our peephole, then takes a step back, confused.

"What? Who is it?" I ask quietly, folding my arms across my chest.

Christina looks back at the door, and then back at me. "I think you better answer this one."

I study her for a moment, no sly grin or mischievous look in her face, so it couldn't be Will or Four. And she didn't open it right away with her shoulders slumped so it couldn't be Eric or anyone from Dauntless. She doesn't look happy or relaxed either so it's none of our friends from the Pit.

"Who is it Chris?"

She keeps her mouth in a tight line and backs away from the door.

I reach for the handle and pull the door open.

It snowed last night. Not a lot, but enough to make the roads dangerous. The balcony to our room is covered in white, as well as the trees in the parking lot and across the road. The sky is white too, promising more snow. And standing outside our door, with dark hair contrasting the white sky, is my brother.

"Caleb?" My voice is gone.

He gives me a small, concerned smile. "Beatrice." Breathing a sigh of relief, "You're okay."

My knees feel weak, and my lungs hurt. "Wha-what are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I tracked your phone." _Of course he did._ He was always tech savvy. He motions his hand at our apartment. "May I come in?"

Christina whispers in my ear at that moment, _"Will is coming over in a half hour."_

I look back at Caleb and shake my head. "Let's go somewhere and talk."

Caleb looks a little dejected but nods at my suggestion. "I know a coffee shop downtown that would be perfect."

"Give me one minute." I say, closing the door on him. Slowly walking to my room to grab a hat and shoes, Christina links her arm with mine, following me and sitting on my bed.

"So, that's your brother?"

I can only nod. _What was he doing here?_

"You know you two don't look anything alike right? Similar nose and lips maybe, but that's it."

I nod once more.

"I thought I recognized him from your limited number of family photos but I wasn't sure."

With my hat and shoes on, I walk back to the door. Christina stops me again.

"Are you okay with this Tris?"

I don't answer her.

Opening the door to see him standing there once again, a little snow now in his hair. My dad's hair. I forgot how much Caleb looked like my father. Even now that he's older. Except for my mother's eyes staring back at me. The whole ordeal makes my chest tight. I wonder if he remembers what day it is today.

Caleb nods for me to follow him. I know Christina is watching us, and I don't acknowledge her.

Down the stairs of our building to the pavement dusted in salt crystals and freshly fallen snow. Caleb walks over to a dark green car and unlocks it. I slide into the passenger seat without uttering a sound.

Soon, we're driving in the middle of town and neither of us says anything.

Caleb pulls into a small parking lot through an alley way, parked behind a café sized building.

"We're here. They have the best fizzy water, coffee, and scones, plus their wifi connection is superb."

I still don't say anything. My hands are cold against the wind, and the snow falls just a bit harder. My heart is pounding through my chest, and my adrenaline is spiking. Questions race through my mind at an inhuman pace. My legs keep in stride with Caleb's, but they want to turn and walk in the opposite direction. I grew up in his shadow, and got good at being invisible. Maybe he won't notice me leave.

"Come Beatrice." He says reaching the front door, and pulling it open for me. I gladly walk in, as the snow was beginning to soak through my shoes.

The interior was how you'd expect a cozy café to look. Two walls were brick, and the other two were a deep red color. The floor was wood, and the counter was a black granite. The first part of the café was regular seating; circular tables that four people could fit around, but only had two chairs each. Deeper in, there was a restroom sign, a fireplace, and more comfortable seating, like couches, reclining chairs and coffee tables. One of the brick walls had an enormous blackened wood bookcase. A sign at the top said _"Today a reader, tomorrow a leader."_

Caleb takes a seat in one of the chairs by the window in the back, so he can watch the snow fall. He was entranced with snow the first time he saw it, and always liked to watch the different patterns it would make. I preferred to make snow angels, and build forts. Caleb would yell at me whenever I ruined a patch of new snow.

"You're quieter than I remember." He says casually as I take a seat across from him.

"I was always quiet."

"Not this quiet." He remarks quietly.

A young woman walks up to our table. She's dressed as the other workers: dark blue jeans, white top and black apron. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a tight ponytail and her glasses look too big for her face.

"Welcome to The Nook, how may I help you today?"

I freeze both at the voice and the sound of the waitress. I look closer, and see her nametag, in big blue letters spells out "Cara". When I meet her eyes, she's already giving me a look not to say anything out loud. Cara, so she's okay.

The name of the café, I didn't even recognize as we walked in. The Nook. The location where Erudite dancers are seen working during the day.

I take another look around at the staff. The six female workers and one male coming in and out of the kitchen area. They all look educated, with a slight stuck up feel to them. They all must be somewhere in their early to late twenties. Another look around, and I spot Damien Heller in the corner reading the paper and contently sipping on coffee. He hasn't watched us at the Pit since early October. Maybe he received a promotion from Max and was able to pick where he wanted to guard. He never seemed that happy at the Pit.

There's another guard here though too. He sits at the table next to Damien, and wears a black trench coat. _Very inconspicuous. _I don't stare too long so I won't be recognized. But there's something unsettling about this new guard. He wears no expression, and looks very threatening. I want to ask Cara, but I really shouldn't.

Cara is still looking at me when my eyes return to hers. She gives me a knowing look. "Would you like to order anything?"

"Oh." I look at the menu over the counter quickly. "I'll take a hot chocolate. No whipped cream."

Cara writes it down then turns to Caleb. When I look at Caleb too, I find that he is gazing at Cara in a way I've never seen him look at anything. Cara seems unfazed to the naked eye, but I saw a slight stutter in her head and she blinked rather quickly when she looked at him.

"Caleb." I say quickly and kick him under the table.

He snaps out of it and blushes furiously. My mood has lightened and I'm suddenly amused.

Stammering, Caleb orders a black coffee and a raspberry scone. Cara turns on her heel and walks back to the counter to deliver our order. Caleb is still watching her.

"Holy . . ." He says quietly.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so red." I smirk at him.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything like her. Did you see her nametag? What was her name?"

I swallow and pretend to think. "Cara, maybe?"

He smiles like a child. His smile widens even more when she comes back with our orders. She looks at him again, and again blinks too quickly. Especially when he thanks her by name.

But as soon as she leaves, he's back to his normally quiet self, staring at his coffee and picking at his scone. He won't be the first to speak. He never was, even at our dinner table when our parents were alive. He never talked unless he was spoken to, followed all the rules, was a star child in the community and in school.

"What are you doing here Caleb? I thought you were gone for good." My voice is stern, and anxious. I hope he doesn't notice the latter.

He pulls out his phone and displays a sound file, plugged in some headphones and handed them to me. Placing one of the headphones next to my ear, he hits play.

There's music playing from his phone, but it's loud, fuzzy, and filled with people talking. Then I hear it, the reason he's here.

"_Hello? Beatrice?" _His voice is confused and on edge.

"_Hey Candy!" _I hear my voice giggle, and inwardly curse. I didn't call Christina. I called Caleb._ "I'm in a little trouble . . . Frowny over here, thinks I've been bad. He gave me something to make me feel good, but I'm tired. Just tired. There's no more pain! It's com-pete-ly gone!" _More giggling. I sound com-pete-ly wasted.

Caleb starts talking again, something I must not have heard._ "Beatrice, what are you-" _Because I cut him off.

"_Woah, grabby Mister! Don't touch me." _My voicesounds strained now._ "Anyhoosies, Ca-nd-ee!" _Back to giggling. I can feel my face turn red._ "I need you here." _Then I hang up.

I look up at Caleb sheepishly and hand him the headphones back. "You recorded that?"

"While I was at NYU I was roommates with a programmer who developed an app that will record all your phone calls for you so you don't need to worry about taking notes when you're talking to someone. You can just go back to this app and replay your calls. Yours was particularly disturbing."

"I'm sorry I called you. That was meant for someone else."

"Someone named Candy?" He asks skeptically.

"Yes."

"That doesn't make me feel any better. Candy sounds like a hooker name."

"It's my friend's nickname." I say quickly. He doesn't seem to believe me. "Honestly. Why would I need to call a hooker anyway?"

"You said you were in trouble. What kind of trouble?"

I fold my arms across my chest. My hot chocolate no longer steaming. "I wasn't feeling good."

"Obviously." He nods to the phone. "You were wasted, and drugged by the sounds of it. You're not even of legal age." His voice is harsh and whispering now. He's angry. Suddenly it feels like I'm getting a scolding from dad for playing on the high bars or climbing a tree, or even staying out past my bedtime, which was 8:30 at the time. It's annoying to hear dad's voice come out of Caleb, and yet, I don't want him to stop talking. I don't remember a single time my mom was angry in public.

"Did you come to check on me, or to lecture me?" I ask sharply.

He frowns. "I came because I was worried about you."

"So you were only _now_ worried because I called you drugged? You weren't at all worried leaving me, a sixteen year old who had just lost her parents, home alone while you went off to school. You weren't worried about me at all in the last four years."

"That's not true."

"Did you miss me at all?"

"Of course I did."

"I'm having a hard time believing you, even though I want to."

"Beatrice please." Every time he says my name I fight back a cringe.

"All I got were letters on an irregular basis. You never came back." Tears form in my eyes. "I thought you hated me."

"I did." Then he stammers. "That was very candor of me. I apologize." I flinch at the name of one of Max's clubs, but keep my face straight. It's not every day I hear it used in simple conversation.

"You hated me." I repeat quietly. "That's okay." I wipe a stray tear off my cheek, not realizing it had even fallen. "I hated me too."

"Beatrice don't say that."

I pause, gaging his reaction. He looks older than he did when he was seventeen, but it's mostly in the eyes. He still has a sharp jaw bone and childlike cheeks. But his eyes have lines on them, and slight bags underneath. The green in his eyes is more muted now, and less like mom's. He wears a dark gray sweater with a dark blue tie and dress shirt underneath. His jeans are dark, and could pass as professional. He looks so much like dad it hurts. Then again, I've been told multiple times by Susan and Robert that I look like my mom. I wonder if Caleb thinks this about me as his eyes go from my hair, my eyes, my nose to my clothes.

"You do know what day it is today, don't you?" I ask, keeping my voice from stammering.

He takes a deep breath and leans back into his chair. "I never forgot."

"It was my fault." I look down at my cup of cold hot chocolate. A lump forms in my throat.

"Technically it was, yes. But I don't blame you. No one does. Mom and dad wouldn't blame you either. They would have given anything to help you feel safe, and they gave everything they had." He picks at his scone, not looking at me anymore. "No one could have known they would be it by a drunk driver. It was icy, late, and a Tuesday night of all nights. No one could have predicted that."

My breathing is shaky, and there are more tears threatening to spill over. "I just can't shake the feeling that it wasn't an accident. Caleb, I _know _there was someone in the house that night."

"The police didn't find anything. Not even evidence of a forced entry. We've been over this."

I scoff through my thick throat. "We never sat down like _this_ to 'go over it' as you say. You didn't talk to me, you barely even looked at me. Much like you're doing now."

He picks his green eyes up and looks at me head on.

"Then one day, you were just gone. A note on the kitchen counter, that was it. You accepted the offer you received to combine your last year in high school and your first in college at NYU. What I didn't realize is that you were actually going, even with what happened. I thought you would have stayed. Helped me, so we could help each other."

"Beatrice. It's more complicated than that."

"How so?"

He pauses, looking extremely guilty all of a sudden. I know I won't like what he has to say. "It was a full scholarship. Mom and dad had encouraged me before . . . I had to take it."

My mouth drops open. "A full scholarship?" I don't know whether to cry because he chose school over me, or laugh because a scholarship is the main reason he left. "You didn't just leave because our parent's died, no, you left because of a freaking full time scholarship?!"

"It was only part of the reason." He tries to save himself. But I'm done.

I stand up quickly and walk towards the door. He walks after me and turns me to face him before I can leave. We've attracted a bit of attention now. And I see his coat is still on the chair. He's not leaving yet, even if I am.

"I'm sorry Beatrice. I didn't know how to face you after, well, just . . . after."

"I wouldn't know how to face me either." I growled at him. "Get away from me Caleb. I don't need you anymore." I shove his hand off my shoulder and walk outside. He doesn't follow me, and I don't look back to see what his reaction is.

I feel strangely liberated, yet hollow inside. It hurts to breathe, and I'm warm all over.

I hunch over in order to keep the wind off of me as I start walking down the street. It's when a truck pulls up beside me. At first I'm on guard and prepared to run just in case. It's not the first time I've been approached by a car.

"Tris!"

I turn at the voice. Sitting in a black pickup, is Uriah.

"Get in." He says over the growing wind and snow.

Not needing to think twice about it, I dash over to the passenger side of the car, open the door and climb in. Instantly I'm surrounded by warmth but can still see my breath. Uriah has the heat blasted in here, so much so that I take off my coat and hat almost immediately.

Uriah pulls back into traffic after I buckle my seatbelt and get situated.

"So, what are you doing out in this weather?" He smiles like it's the most natural thing in the world. Maybe that's what I like about him so much.

"Working on my eskimo act." Uriah snorts. It makes me smile just a bit. "Going home actually." A shiver ripples through me as my body adjusts to the heat.

"Ah. Tell me where to go m'lady and I shall obey."

"Woods District."

"The one and only district in all of Chicago that has different names of trees as their streets." He smirks, then falters, then recovers. What was that about?

There's a slight pause in our ride, where neither Uriah nor I say anything. He glances at me occasionally and thinks I don't notice. His grip tightens on the steering wheel every now and then. And I find it slightly amusing how he huffs every time we come to a red light.

"How did it go with your brother?" I ask.

"What?"

"When your brother found us at the restaurant last Sunday, he was upset. How did it go?"

Uriah smirks just a little. "Oh that, it was a misunderstanding. Nothing serious. Zeke just gets full of hot steam when he learns something that upsets him and tends to jump to conclusions and freak out like a child before confronting the problem. I've never actually seen him blow up or attack someone out of anger. I don't know if he has it in him."

"Didn't he blow up at you?"

He laughs now. "No, that was just a tantrum. But it's all good now."

I fidget with my fingers as we near the residential area of the Woods District, passing Cedar St and Firwood Ln.

"May I ask what it was about?"

His smile disappears just a little, but for the most part, he's still his happy self. "Surprisingly, it was about you."

"Me?" My voice waivers slightly. "What did I do to upset Zeke?"

"It's nothing you did, it's what I did really. But it involves you. And Four."

My heart beat speeds up and my finger fidgeting increases. Uriah notices and gives me a look, but at this point I don't care. "What about Four and me?"

Uriah gives me a funny look. "I thought you were an English major. Isn't it _Four and_ _I_?"

"Not in this case. The way you can test it, is by taking out the other person from the sentence to see which one makes more sense. In this case it was _Four and me,_ because otherwise the sentence would be 'what about _me_?' By taking Four out, it still makes sense. If it were 'what about Four and I," by taking Four out it would be 'What about _I?' _which doesn't make sense. But if you were to say _Will Four and I be able to go downtown? _You can take Four out and it still makes sense, 'Will_ I_ be able to go?' See?"

All he does is smile from ear to ear, and I realize what he just did.

"That was really tricky Uriah, making me change the subject like that."

"I only wanted you to take your mind off of it to by me some time." Still smiling.

"We're not at my complex yet, keep talking. Oh, take a right at the next stop sign. What about Four and me upset Zeke so much?"

He sighs, but doesn't stop smiling. His eyes crease just for a moment like he's trying to think of the right way to phrase it. "Zeke has it in his mind that Four, his best friend, maybe has a crush on you." Heartbeat speeds up again. "And him seeing the two of us at the restaurant, laughing and having fun kind of set him off."

"Zeke saw us before he came at you?"

Now he stops smiling. "Four. Four saw us, and told Zeke."

Four saw me with Uriah. Like that, having fun and smiling freely. He must really hate me now.

Uriah continues. "Anyway, Zeke came to the restaurant as we were leaving and got on me for stealing his best friend's girl. Even though technically you're not his girl by any means. There's a guy code where if your best friend, or in this case, if your brother's best friend likes a girl, she's off limits."

I don't respond to Uriah right away, only when he needs more specific directions. And I don't feel so bad about telling him exactly where I live. It'd be nice to have someone like Uriah be able to come right away in the case of an emergency.

"I don't think he likes me anymore." I mutter under my breath as Uriah turns into my complex's parking lot. The snow was really picking up now. And Will's car was next to Christina's, great.

Uriah doesn't look phased by my statement. He must know what happened. "I don't know if I'd say that. It takes more than simple 'go away' to stop liking someone."

"He told you then?"

"Wasn't hard to guess with the mood he was in. See the thing about Four, is that he's not that good at hiding his emotions. He thinks he is, and I let him think that, but I can tell when he's genuinely hurt, sad, happy, and all those emotions in between."

"And he was . . .?"

"Hurt for sure. Definitely confused. But he still likes you. Mostly I think he's wondering what he did wrong."

I fidget with my fingers once more. "I didn't see him at all the rest of the week." Four wasn't in class at all. Amar had said he was taking some personal days, but I knew better. Thompson was still teaching. Myra could tell something was off on Wednesday when I didn't sit in our normal spot. I sat in the back, next to the door, with enough cover up on my face to paint a clown. She knew something had happened. I didn't give her details, but it was enough to anger her. Thompson didn't make any moves the last few days, he didn't even acknowledge my existence. And he seemed thoroughly pissed off. Probably because now he's not allowed in Dauntless. That begs the question, if Max moves me to Erudite, will he be allowed there?

"Was he okay?" I ask.

Uriah snorts. "He was brooding and huffy in his bed all week trying to make sense of what happened, both between the two of you, _and_ what ever happened _before_ you sent him off. Speaking of . . ."

"What happened, is none of his concern."

"See that's the problem Tris, you shut people out more than necessary. Don't get me wrong, it's a strong quality to have in our line of work, but you do need to let some people in."

"I let you in." I cross my arms over my chest and look out the window.

"Yes, you did. And I think I'm a fabulous choice to be let in, so thank you."

It makes me smile just a little at his drama queen nature. "I, I just don't know how to tell him, or even _what_ to tell him. I don't know if he's trust worthy or if he'll just leave when he finds out."

"He won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because he knows about me. He doesn't hate me. He judged me hard for sure, but he never stopped being a friend, and never told my secret."

"That night, when we first met." I say my mouth dry. "He was at the club wasn't he? I thought I saw him but I tried to convince myself for so long that he didn't even know Dauntless existed and then he found me outside the building brought me to the hospital and-"

"It's all downhill from there." He finishes my thought.

"Oh God that means Zeke knows too! Your own brother, and he doesn't hate you either?"

Uriah laughs now, deep and full. It's contagious and frightfully hilarious. "Hate me? He's jealous of me! Once he got passed the initial shock that I work as a night dancer, he realized the amount of girls that fawn over me. The first thing he asked me was how to get him a job there."

I laugh now. "What did you say?"

"I said no of course. I don't want him getting mixed up in this." His laughing dies down, but there's still a smile on his face. "You ever think about leaving?"

More bricks form in my chest. My decision not to go along with the others is still ever present in my head.

"Uriah, if I tell you something in confidence, can you promise me, and I mean swear on your mother's grave,"

"My mother's alive." He smirks.

"It's an expression, shut up. Can you swear you won't tell anyone or leak it to anyone? And I mean, _anyone._"

He smiles at me, and suddenly Uriah feels more like a brother than Caleb did in the sixteen years we lived under the same roof. I _know_ I can tell him anything before he even says so.

"Okay," I take a deep breath. "The girls at Dauntless, my girls, are planning on leaving." Uriah's eyes widen and his mouth drops open. Before he can say anything I continue. "New Year's Eve there's the annual Dauntless auction where all the Dauntless female dancers, even the ones not in our group are auctioned off for a kiss when the ball drops, and for a private night with us. Then we leave right after midnight when the night is in full party-mode, and drive off to the airport. There won't be as much traffic, and the bridge we go under is currently down with cameras of Max's. But in order for this to work, we need," I gesture to him. "Guys we trust, to by us at the auction, and help us move to our new location." His mouth is still open in disbelief. "I know it sounds crazy, but they can't take it anymore."

"That sounds crazy for sure, but just crazy enough to work. You won't get another opportunity like that until next year."

"And I have a feeling some of us will be transferred before next year. One of us was before we made the plans and we can't get to her."

"So are you asking me to buy you at the auction?"

"No. Someone else is going to ask you." He looks confused, but he must assume I mean Shauna because his face resolves into a small smile.

"Okay." He says. He has no idea it'll be Marlene.

"Just make sure you act surprised when she asks you. She's supposed to be the one to tell you all this, and please just listen to her before you make any judgements."

He looks a little offended, but in a joking way. "I always listen to the whole story before making judgements. Unless it's about my brother. He's a wild card and I make no guarantees about him." He looks down at his fingers. "The guys you're all asking, are they expected to go with you? To wherever it is you're going?"

"Only if they want to. We won't force them, but Tori pulled a few strings and was able to get us each two tickets, just in case they want to come. If not, we'll get a refund. We're all on different flights anyway."

"Why is that?" He looks out his rear view mirror like something moved. It puts me on edge but I still answer.

"We figure if we split up, it'll be harder for Max to find us. And the state we'll ultimately end up in has a warrant out for both Max and Eric."

"Smart."

I nod my head. He looks at his window again.

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

"What?"

"You keep moving your head suddenly, like you're worried someone will see us. Or that someone already has seen us."

He doesn't smile, but his tone is light. "Just keeping watch is all."

"I should probably go inside anyway." I say putting my hat back on my head and pulling my key out of my pocket.

"Wait Tris." Uriah says as he takes an old napkin out of the console and writes with a pen something quickly.

He hands it to me. "An address?"

"My address. Zeke and I are throwing a party after finals are over. Tell Christina, if Will hasn't already. Zeke is telling Shauna and Lynn. Anyone else you work with is welcome to come too."

"What time? Day?"

"I'll text you the rest of the information later. But, I have to go now." He says putting the car in reverse rather quickly.

"Okay." I say suspiciously as I get out of the car. "Thanks for the ride Uriah."

"Anytime Tris." He says and I close the door. I watch him pull out of the lot and drive down the street, at a pace that's probably too fast for a snow storm. The snow on the ground is around four inches now, and growing. The parking lot snow is lower than everywhere else just because the neighbors threw salt down and the heat of the pavement from cars sitting by. I don't wait for the snow to soak my shoes this time. Hurrying up the side stairs and walking the wooden deck to our door.

I can hear groans and moans coming from Christina's room. And suddenly I feel like studying in my room with my headphones on full volume.

Leaving a note for Chris under her door letting her know I'm home but am not listening, I pick up my notebook off our island and shut myself into my now heated room. I wonder when it kicked on, but either way, I'm happy I don't have to wear layers in my own home.

Yet in the comforts of my room, with Taylor Swift's "Back to December" playing. I know what I need to do. I pull out my phone, type and hit send before I can even think twice.

* * *

From: Beatrice Prior

Subject: Letting you inside my head

Date: December 7th, 2014 15:22

To: Four Eaton

I was wrong

To tell you goodbye

Just stay away

And let me cry

I was wrong

And I'm filled with guilt

I don't want to destroy

What we had built

I was scared

To let you in

Worried you would see

My crazy begin

I was wrong to be afraid

For now I can see

You were only trying to help

Me.

* * *

I don't know if he'll read it. Or if he'd even care, but I've waited long enough to let my pride get the better of me. Maybe this will help mend our screwed up friendship. Then again, maybe not.

****And the caller was... CALEB PRIOR! HAHAAHA another congrats to those of you who figured this out!**

**I can guarantee you lovelies, some FourTris confrontation in the next chapter!**

**Please review my babes! Also note that this poem was written by me, the author, purplestar613 in a spur of the moment kind of thing. Otherwise I would put a credit to whoever wrote it :)**

**Stay classy****


	22. Chapter 22

****(Peaks out from behind the fortress of shame) Sorry I'm late! Unfortunately school does come first, even if writing is my passion in life. And let me tell you, school has, in these last two weeks alone, fried me up and drained my energy. Heavy exasperated sigh… Again, supers sorry about the late update. I hate making you guys wait, because I know what it's like to constantly wait for a story you like to be updated.**

**Can't guarantee a regular updating schedule, as I said in my last Author Note, but now I'm really emphasizing it. I recently got hired for a second part time job in retail since I need money (btw wouldn't it be great if we could make money off these stories!? Ahaha then my problems would be over). I start October 24****th****, and don't know exactly what my schedule will be or even look like. Especially with the holiday season coming up. I'm a little scared, and nervous, but I'm excited for the discount and experience LOL. **

**It's gonna be crazy these next few months. But hang tight because I know we'll get there! Thanks so much for all the reviews, traffic and for those of you sticking with the story!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent *sad face***

**Presenting, chapter 22!****

**Tris POV – Monday, December 8****th**

There has been no response since I sent the email. And it is driving me, up, the, WALL. Christina found me pacing in my room last night after our downstairs neighbor began banging on our front door at all the noise I was making.

I can't even study properly without thinking about him.

And then there's Caleb, my brother who feels less and less like one the longer he sticks around, and it's only been twenty hours since I've seen him. He's called me thrice more, and left another two messages, telling me how sorry he was for leaving me, that he wants to make things right, and trying to use our dead parents against me. Saying things like how mom and dad would want us to reconnect after this time apart. That we should honor their memory and continue to live as a family once more. He wants into my life. I want him at the bottom of the ocean.

Today begins our finals week. Meaning we don't have regular class, just our finals. Thompson's final is in two parts, one due online, tomorrow by 5 p.m. The other is in class on Friday at 9 a.m. I already have the first part completed. No use spending more time than necessary on that man's class.

My physical education final is tomorrow as well, but it's an in class essay. Easy enough. Amar's final unfortunately isn't until Friday at noon. I hate Friday finals.

Christina just has to give oral presentations for her finals in language and linguistics. Her only in class final is Amar's. Saying she was extremely bummed out, would be an understatement. Not just because a student with Friday finals is practically running on fumes, but because the whole time we've been in school, she has always avoided the Friday final, and this semester it caught up with her.

I wouldn't even be on campus today, except Myra sent me a text early this morning to meet her in the library. She said it was urgent. I figured it was about Thompson's final at first, but now I'm starting to second guess it.

The library is packed with students. You can tell which of them have been studying for weeks, and which have started studying just last night. It smells like sweat and nerves.

Myra told me to meet her by the Sunset Lounge, across the hall from Hannah's Bagels. The lounge itself if very calming; soft furniture, and a nice view of the park facing west, providing the floor to ceiling windows with powerful sunsets. The walls are painted a light tope color with warm wood paneling, and the other walls are lined with pleasure reading, fiction mostly.

"Tris," Her voice is a hushed whisper, the only volume allowed in the library.

Myra looks disheveled to say the least. No one would second glance it since its Finals Week, but I know better. Her hair is down around her shoulders, uncombed. No makeup nor jewelry. Her clothes are week-old sweatshirt and jeans. But her eyes are panicking.

"What is it?" I ask sitting her down.

She bites her lip as her eyes moisten.

"Would it be easier to write down?" I offer.

Myra shakes her head and takes a very shaky breath. "I was, um, I was told to talk to you. By . . ." Another deep breath. "By E-Eric."

I try not to go into protective-motherly-mode, but it happens. "How do you know Eric?"

She laughs this time, but tears now fall down her cheeks. "We're neighbors actually. Eric, he lives in the apartment across the hall from me. And, well, you know how I've been looking for a second job right?"

Crap.

"Well," Myra continues. "He offered me a job. I thought I knew what I was getting into, and I had no idea you're a part of it. . . I. . . How could you not tell me?"

"It isn't really a suitable conversation." I say quietly.

"Raven." She says lowering her voice. "That's your, your stripper name."

"I'm not a stripper Myra. Get that clear. I'm a dancer. I don't slowly strip my clothes off for people to ogle at."

A small giggle escapes her. "Sorry, I've always found the word 'ogle' amusing."

This forces me to smile just a little, but I'm not sure I really mean it. "Are you working with us now?"

She nods. "Eric said you guys lost a girl recently, and that I would be great for the part." A small groan escapes her and she ducks her head into her hands. "I thought he wanted me as a model of sorts, that's how he described it. He offered me enough money to cover my first part time job and this one."

"He does that."

"And to think I had a crush on him."

This catches my attention. "Wait, what?"

"Oh come on Tris, Eric is an attractive guy. I saw him twice a day if I was lucky, and he was nice to me. Charismatic, sly, charming, mysterious. He was like an educated guy and a bad guy in one. I figured I'd already fallen for a bad guy, why not mix it up." She snorts. "How stupid does that sound?"

_Very. _"Not that bad."

She takes another deep breath, but this time to calm herself. "Okay," She runs her hands down her jeans. "So what am I in for exactly?"

"Skin. Sweat. Music. Money. Think you can handle that?"

"Honestly I'm not sure what to think right now. It feels like a nightmare. A nightmare that I'm getting paid for."

"A nightmare that you're paid to dance for." I smile gently and regain my motherly instincts. "Don't overthink it too much, you'll just drive yourself crazy."

"And if I'm already there?"

"Join the club."

She laughs lightly. "We also work at a sandwich shop near the downtown district not far from here, right?"

"Those of us in Dauntless yes. Other clubs work at different establishments." I nod. "Ours is called the Pit. Sandwiches and cake are our specialty, but we've been known to dress up the place for holidays and special occasions."

"How many others are there? Like us, I mean."

"Honestly, I don't know how many Max has in his employment." The thought constantly plagues my mind, but I take my own advice and try not to think about it. How many girls will feel the wrath of Max when we . . . when _they_ leave? I'll probably get the worst of it. And knowing that most of his men have military backgrounds, they'll try to get information from me, but it won't work. Raven, is too God damned stubborn.

"Max being the head boss?"

"Yep. Think of him as the mafia leader and it won't tempt you to challenge him."

She closes her eyes and runs a hand through her dark hair. "Eric told me a bit about the organization. That there are five clubs-"

"Six."

"Six?"

"Did Eric tell you about the Gutter?" She shakes her head. "Think of it as the motivation to not get in trouble. If you are a pawn neither Max nor Eric can control, they'll send you to the Gutter."

"It doesn't sound pleasant."

"No. It doesn't."

"Have you ever been there?"

I pause. "Well, no actually I haven't."

"Then how do you know it's so bad?"

"Because that's where the majority of the dead bodies turn up."

"Oh." She puts her head down, first nodding for me to continue.

"The six clubs are called, the Gutter, Erudite, Amity, Abnegation, Candor, and Dauntless. Did Eric tell you specifically which club you'd be at?"

She shakes her head. "Either Erudite or Dauntless he said. I'm supposed to go on a tour tonight of the two clubs and then a decision will be made for me by tomorrow."

"That's what we all go through. Except I've never heard of a dancer _only_ going to the two clubs she's being considered for. I'm surprised he even told you them specifically. Something's different with you."

Myra looks nervous now, and fidgety. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure. It's like they're rushing your placement into a club." Something must have Max and Eric on edge. That's both a good thing, and a bad thing. Good, because it means they'll be distracted by whatever is bothering them, but bad because they'll be keeping a closer eye on us. "I don't think it has to do with you personally."

She looks a little calmer. "Could my, dancing name, have anything to do with where I'm placed?"

This surprises me. "They've already given you one?"

"Yeah. Though I'm not sure it'll do me any favors."

"None of them do. Trust me."

"But yours sounds cool, and fierce, like you don't take shit from anyone."

I give her a look. "Well, I don't."

"Right I know, but still. What are the other, Dauntless, dancers named?"

"Well, I don't know about any of the girls not in my group," She gives me a confused look. "There are two main groups for every club, because we rotate nights. The ones that dance the same days I do are in my group. We're known as Group A since we're the group most people come to see at Dauntless. I don't know any of the girls in Group B. Eric doesn't like us interacting that much. And that's the same ideals with the dancers from the other clubs. The only girls I know from those places, are the ones who transferred there as per Eric's decision. The most recent was a girl named Trinity. And for privacy reasons I can't tell you what her real name is."

"I understand." She leans in a bit now, curious and hungry for more information regarding her new life. "She has a good name."

I nod in agreement. "The others in my group are: Bambi, Paris, Candy, Luscious, Cherry, and Porsche. Though Porsche is the one who was recently sent to the Gutter."

Myra sighs heavily. "Well, at least I'm not the only one with a bad name. Though I still think yours is the best."

I'm curious now. "What is it?"

"My name is Glimmer. Like the blonde bimbo from the Hunger Games." Myra grumps quietly. "I'm not even blonde!"

_Wait until you wear a wig. _I smile before I even realize it. "That's a good name."

She huffs again. "I'm supposed to go meet someone at the club tonight for the tour and other stuff. Is it true I have to get a tattoo? I just got mine removed." Whining towards the end, she pouts like a child. A very tired, and adult looking child.

"Yes, you have to get one."

"Just tell me it's not a tramp stamp."

I bite my lip.

Myra groans again, louder, and gets a few annoyed glares from those students studying around us. I grab her hand to pull her outside. She follows me, quietly. Her eyes downcast.

When the cold bite of December hits my face as we exit, a chill runs down my spine. "So you got your ex's name removed finally?"

She smiles just a little and shoves her hands in her pockets, kicking the icy ground. "Yes. It was on my ribcage."

"Ouch."

"I wanted him to be close to my heart." She says like the dramatic sixteen year old she probably was when she got it. It must have hurt too. Maybe she has a high pain tolerance, that'll be helpful for this job.

"You never really explained how the two of you broke it off to me."

"And you want to know?"

"I'm a curious being." I reply walking her into a nearby café where talking is permitted. There's a lingering scent of cinnamon in the air, and it's oddly comforting, though I can't place why.

We sit down and order some drinks. Pumpkin spice latte for Myra, to which I give her a teasing "white-girl" look. She shrugs innocently. I order a peppermint hot chocolate, just to try something new. The whipped cream on top is fluffy and delicate, melting into the chocolate drink like a dance. I've loved whipped cream as long as I can remember.

_What would it be like to lick it off someone?_

My face reddens at the thought.

"You okay Tris?" Myra asks.

"Peachy." I respond. _Maybe to lick it off Four?_

"You look like you're in heat." She giggles.

I glare at her. "It's nothing, okay?"

_His chiseled chest, and sharp jaw bone, to watch him shudder under my touch. Knowing that I have that power over him._ Oh. My. God.

"Oh, wow." Myra's mouth goes slack.

"What?"

Her face breaks out into a huge grin. "Don't look know, but there is a 10 out of 10 male creature staring over here. Pretty sure he's looking at you."

I snort. "Doubt it."

She shrugs. "I'm staring right at him and he still hasn't made eye contact with me."

"Then why are you staring at him?!" I whisper harshly.

"He's cute. I like to observe."

"Myra. . ." I groan.

The cinnamon scent gets louder and heavier, and I feel like melting. As though in a dream.

"He's walking over here." She sounds excited. "Still looking at you by the way."

My fist clenches. "Myra I swear to God if you make any kind of scene I will dump your steaming drink down your shirt."

Myra conceals a smirk as best she can, but fails. "Here he is, in 3, 2, 1…" She mouths the last two numbers and looks back at me. Only casually following him with her eyes.

As he walks by, the cinnamon is intense, it must be a cologne or something. He doesn't stop by us, and doesn't stagger in his steps. He just keeps walking through to the exit. I don't need to see his face, just his strong shoulders jutting out through his button up navy blue shirt to know that Four the T.A., mysterious man 101 just walked by. My face begins to burn once more, as I faintly recall smelling hints of cinnamon whenever I've been near him. But never this strong.

My legs twitch and I fold one over the other quickly. I grip my hot cup, slightly burning my hands in order to keep myself rooted to the chair.

Myra notices everything and I know I can't hide it.

"Who was that?" She asks.

"I don't know."

"Like Hell you don't." She laughs, quietly at first, and then loudly like a storm. It's not at all a girly laugh like I imagined she would have, but strong and quirky. Contagious and embarrassing, though she doesn't seem to care.

"I'm not going to discuss this right now Myra."

"Oh, yes we are going to discuss it Tris." She calms down, her cheeks freshly flushed. "I won't tell you about my ex until you tell me about that fine piece of ass."

"Myra!"

She laughs again. She really is as bad as Christina.

I take in a deep, heavy, exasperated breath and manage to glare at her simultaneously. She doesn't care. She just smiles. "Fine, his name is, well his name is Mr. Eaton. He's a T.A. in my Shakespeare class."

"Mr. Eaton? Well aren't you formal. What's his first name?"

"I don't know."

"Bullshit."

"No really Myra, he only gave us his nickname that he goes by. I imagine he doesn't like his first name or whatever because even the Professor who seems to know him really well calls him by it."

"Huh, so what's his nickname?"

"Four."

She pauses, as though what I just said was a joke. "Like the number?"

I nod, and sip my drink. A little whipped cream getting on my upper lip. _Don't think about Four, don't think about Four._ I really am not helping myself in the slightest.

"Well that's a little strange, isn't it? I wonder what it signifies."

"No idea. Although I've heard some theories."

She leans in, smiling now. "Like?"

I swallow, "I've only heard these passing by in class. Girls tend to think it's because he got fourth place on some hottest guy alive chart. Guys think that he must have a four inch _private-man-part_ and doesn't want anyone to know."

Myra's latte comes out of her nose, spraying all over the table. She gasps, chokes and begins crying with laughter. "Okay, one: there is no way that guy has a four inch penis." I redden more at her language. A few other heads turn towards us, both intrigued and disgusted. "Those guys are just jealous. He probably has one that's four inches longer than the average male."

"Myra, keep your voice down." I hush her as she begins to attract attention.

"Two: he would have won first place, let's be honest."

"I can't believe you said that out loud." I duck my head into my hands.

"And you like him, that much is clear."

"Do not."

"Do too."

There really is no use arguing with her. "Look at the facts Tris, you blush when he walks by, and you blush even harder when talking about him. Probably get turned on when you think about him. It's cute." She smiles kindly at me, with a knowing and satisfied look in her eyes as she wipes up her mess.

"Okay, I told you what I know." I huff, now thoroughly embarrassed and now clinging to the last little bit of cinnamon that lingers in the air. "Tell me about your ex."

Myra dives right in. "He was my first boyfriend, I thought I was in love, it lasted just under a year. I got the tattoo to surprise him for our one year anniversary, but then I caught him not only in bed with another girl, but I found this creepy shrine he has for girls in slutty outfits. Some of them were hookers, some were Halloween costumes throughout the years, and others were of girls exiting clubs who hadn't changed out of their uniforms. It broke my heart."

"That sounds like a guy who would visit Dauntless. We have the sluttiest outfits in the Factions."

She pulls a face. "Factions?"

I wave my hand. "It's what we call the whole slew of clubs and workplaces. Mostly the dancers use it as slang, but I've heard Eric use it every now and then."

"Oh. Well, his pictures seemed to date back to when we were just kids, and then some even beyond that. Some are polaroid pictures of dancers and hookers dating back to the eighties."

My back stiffens a little. "That doesn't make any sense. Is he our age?"

"Just a few months older than us, yeah." She nods.

"Then how would that be possible? Our age group would be in the early to mid 1990's. I was born 1994."

"So was I." She says thinking to herself.

"The eighties." I say again quietly, taking another drink of my hot chocolate. "That means you ex was probably taught how to take the pictures without being detected. Probably from an older brother, or a father or an uncle."

"Or a creepy aunt or mother." Myra points out.

"Yes, I suppose that's possible, but I think it's more likely that it was a male figure who taught him that. Someone who despises women, and only sees them as objects. Someone who only sees himself having power over a woman when she's in that kind of setting. This uncle or dad of your ex is probably one he couldn't please very easily, so this was his way of making the figure proud of him. He was probably hit as a kid too."

Myra sits back in her chair and gives me an unbelievable look. "How in the world did you know that?"

I shrug. "I've learned to profile people in my line of work. Can't be too careful. Was I right?"

"Spot on." She looks a little impressed. "He told me that his mom was harsh on both him and his dad. And that his dad used to beat him when he brought home bad grades or was caught fighting on the playground. He had three cameras in his room, one of them was really old. But they were always dusted and cleaned. Like they were his most prized possessions." She pauses and spins what's left of her latte in her cup. "He mentioned that before he had his falling out with his dad, that he used to put his dad on a pedestal; wanting to learn everything he knew. But his dad ran out on him when he was nine. Well, more like he ran out on my ex's mom. She was a drinker."

"And he didn't take his son with him?"

She shakes her head. "Nope. And he's tried looking for his dad, but never found him. He had a theory that his dad changed his name, but never left Chicago."

I stare at Myra just a little longer than necessary. "You know throughout this whole time, you've never said his name."

She fidgets. "I know."

"Will I need to ask why, or should I explain it to you?" I smirk.

"Are you sure you're not a psych major?" She smirks back. Then sighs. "I haven't said his name, because deep down, I think I still have feelings for him, and it scares me to admit that. Leaving him nameless makes the hurt less real. Makes him less real. And though I would _never_ get back together with him, I never got the right amount of closure I needed you know?"

I nod. Even though I've never had a boyfriend and know what it's like not to get closure from _that_ kind of relationship. I know what it's like to not get closure. My parents' faces flash before my eyes, just for the briefest of moments.

"Anyway, his name is Edward."

I look at Myra in a split second. "Edward what?"

"Nash. Edward Nash."

I should be used to the ball-dropping-in-the-stomach, icy-blood feeling. But I'm not.

"Tris?" My face must have given it away.

"He's a regular customer." I say quietly.

"Customer? You mean at. . ." I nod, and she nearly smacks her head on the table, groaning. "No . . . no no no. . ." She mumbles into the table, which can't be that sanitary.

"Myra,"

"God, that means I'll probably see him!"

"Myra,"

"I don't want to see him! I don't even want to think-"

"Myra!" I raise my voice finally. "Listen to me carefully. The rule is that if anyone recognizes you outside of the clubs they can't use your stage name or they'll get kicked out. If they get too handsy outside of the club, they get a warning and then kicked out if it continues. Max wants us protected because we bring in his money, which is a cheap way of saying we're employees. In the club itself, customers can't get handsy with you unless they pay for it, and that is expensive and very rare. They will touch you as you walk by in crowds, as you give lap dances, and try to cop a feel when they're shoving money at you. If you feel threatened or in trouble with any customer, you let Eric know. He may tell you to suck it up if you get anxious over dancing, but if you're in danger, he will take action. It's a really twisted look at a knight in shining armor complex." I take a deep breath to slow myself down. Myra soaking in every word I tell her. "As long as you stay in line, and do your job. You. Will. Be. Okay. And us dancers, it may not seem like it, but we look out for one another. If you get hurt, _we_ get angry. It's only happened once, but dancers do have the ability to blackball a customer."

"Wow," is all she can say.

Myra begins to ask me more questions about dancing life, with more of an interest and less of a scared puppy.

I hear the bell from the middle of campus after what only feels like a half hour. It's two in the afternoon. "I need to go to work." I tell Myra quickly. "You can come if you want, just to see, but we have to hurry."

She nods. "I'll follow you, but I think I need some time on my own to process what's about to happen."

"Understandable."

"Hey Tris," She says as we start walking. "Have any customers gotten kicked out because of you?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Is there anyone on campus who's a regular?"

"Yes." I pass by them all the time, but they know better than to say anything.

"Any teachers?"

I falter just a bit. "Only one that I know of. But he's one of the ones who got kicked out because of me."

"Do I know him?"

"Yes."

"Who is it?"

"You're going to hate me for not telling you."

She snorts, "Doubt it."

"Professor Thompson."

Myra stops dead in her tracks, just as I suspected. The look on her face is almost comical. "What?!"

"Told you." A small smile plays on my face.

Myra sputters for about a minutes, keeping hot on my heels as we leave campus. "So that's why, and he, and you, and . . . what did he do to get kicked out?"

"He attacked me."

"Tris why didn't you tell me!?"

"You weren't employed. It's in our contract not to tell anyone. Technically if I had told you before you were hired, and you reported it, both you and I would be in trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Max doesn't follow the rules completely. His business is slightly illegal in certain areas. First he would get rid of you, the witness. Whether or not he would kill you depends on how much you knew. If he could buy you off he would, or just employ you against your will. Then they would take away my pay, and probably send me to the Gutter."

"The bad club."

I nod.

We reach the Pit. It's already buzzing, people wanting to get out of the cold is understandable. But there are much better places they could go for a sandwich. The cake however is a different story entirely.

"I have to go in." I say as we reach the back door.

Myra nods. "I guess I'll see you later then. Will you be at Dauntless tonight?"

"Don't know. Max will send one of us to escort you around. Since I did the last new hire, probably not. But like I said, I don't know."

"Okay." Myra turns to walk away, her head hanging in self-doubt.

"Myra." I call after her. She looks back at me. "You'll do great."

I change quickly in the back. Shauna is at her locker too, shoving some salty snacks down her throat. She gives me a shocked look when she notices I'm standing right there, then she goes back to eating. I shrug and head out onto the floor. Lynn is still completing a final, but Christina is here. As is Marlene, who is currently waiting on a customer. She's been here two weeks now, and she blends in as though she's been here for years. I'm impressed.

Zeke is at the counter eating what looks to be his second piece of cake. No Uriah nor Four with him.

I begin to serve customers as they come in, going about my regular routine. Surprisingly I see a lot of new faces today. Many are college students, but from all corners of the university. Some studying in the corner, some practicing mathematics in a booth, others discussing literary comparisons in day to day life by the door. It's amazing.

I'm currently serving veggie and vegan burgers to some biology students who don't even look up when I set their food down.

Cinnamon enters again. I stiffen and relax at the same time if that's even possible. But accompanied with that cinnamon is a flowery scent that is overbearing and toxic, followed by a high pitch laugh.

"Four? I thought you weren't going to be in today?!" Zeke's voice becomes very excited very fast.

"Nita wanted to see what the Pit had to offer. And to try some cake." His voice is softer, and it makes my stomach sink the way he says _her_ name.

She giggles, and it makes me nauseous. "Four raved about the cake here so I just had to try it!"

"I'm glad he liked it. It's our special so it has to be the best." Shauna walks back in. Smiling kindly as she extends her hand. "I'm Shauna. Zeke's, friend." Her voice waivers and I can see the slightly sunken feeling in Zeke's face as I walk by, but he tries to ignore it.

"Tris." Shauna's voice hits me in the back. I casually turn my head, not looking at Four the whole time. Suddenly I'm extremely embarrassed at the vulnerable email I sent him, and he _still_ hasn't responded. He's probably laughing at me. "Two slices of chocolate."

"Actually I'd like vanilla." Nita says quickly. Nearly everyone in the restaurant stares at her like she's crazy. She giggles and adds. "That way I can try both. I'll just steal some of _Four's_." She practically sings his name like it's the most precious hymn she knows.

"Sure." I say and walk behind the kitchen window.

Matthew knows more about our behavior than I've ever given him credit for. Both pieces are waiting for me.

"You're slipping Tris." He says, and I can't tell if he's worried, or making fun of me.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You're letting yourself open up to others, I can see it."

I snort. "How?"

"Because you're softer when you speak. And you're getting hurt. It happens when we allow another person to have a say in our feelings."

"Then maybe it's better to close myself off again?" I ask, almost hoping he'll contradict me. Pull me back from this ledge I've put myself on. It scares me and I want someone to tell me to block out my emotions and go back to the way things were.

"In the short run sure." He goes back to baking some bread. "Just be careful not to shut everyone out." This was not the answer I was looking for.

I take the cake and bring it back out. Four is squished in between Nita and Zeke. He's looking at Nita, and smiling. Not a lot, but just enough to make my knees weak. My cheeks heat up and I can feel my eyes swell with moisture. I don't want to feel this way. I can't remember, has he ever smiled at _me_ like that? Maybe I missed my opportunity.

Setting the plates down gently so that I might finally accomplish being invisible. Four hears me. His eyes turn to mine and they lock. It's dark in his eyes, the color of a shadowed glacier on the mountain, or a raging river headed to the sea. I can't tell. His pupils widen just a fraction and I can feel my lungs tighten. My legs are frozen and I know my mouth is hanging open. More tears well in my eyes and I know he can see it.

His demeanor changes in an instant as his eyes dart down to my arms. He becomes angry.

Nita reaches for his cheek and pulls his attention back to her.

"Tris?" Shauna asks, voice extremely concerned.

"I . . . I'll be back." I say quickly and walk at a fast pace out to the back.

What has come over me? The salt water flows down my cheeks now as I blink repeatedly. I wipe it off just as fast as it comes. Reaching the back door I slam it behind me, now alone in the darkening afternoon sky, with more clouds of white moving in to add to our already piling snow.

My back slides down the brick wall of the building until I'm sitting. Pulling my knees into my chest and burying my head in them so that I might disappear. If only I could wish for Four to grant me that. The ability to disappear.

I'm silent as I cry. A practiced art really, not wanting to alert anyone to my sorrow. They have enough to worry about in their own lives.

A crunching noise sounds far off, but it's gentle footsteps in the nearby snow. I've been caught being invisible. "Tris."

"What?" I ask quietly. No drive left to bite back at him for disturbing me.

His voice is softer. Compassionate. Tender. I've never heard it this way before. Even when I told him to leave me alone. And it makes me take in a harsher breath to keep from crying more. I still don't look at him, but it sounds like he's kneeling down close to me. I feel like such a child.

"How did you get those marks on your arms?"

I can't help but laugh. It's short and breathy, but it's a laugh. "I'm sitting here in freezing temperatures crying, and you're asking about my arms? Where's your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Seemed like it." Another small laugh escapes me, wondering how he could be so oblivious.

Picking my head up to look at him, suddenly not afraid if he sees my blotted cheeks or tear stained skin, puffy red eyes and trembling lip.

When Four puts his instructor face on, he can be hard to read. But it's a mask, and I can tell he's confused at my reaction. I'm having a hard time reading his mind though.

"I'm worried about you, and that's not easy for me to admit to someone. So, please don't laugh."

I look back up at the sky. Whiter, fluffier. The wind is just a touch softer too. The smell of frozen concrete and salt fills me, but the cinnamon is stronger.

"You never responded." I say finally.

He sits down next to me. "Your email? I didn't know how."

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't sure if it was a way you were telling me you understood my motives, but still wanted me to keep my distance, or if you were telling me to keep trying."

Another breathy laugh escapes. "I guess I wasn't too clear on that. I'm not sure if I'm even clear on it myself."

"Want to try to explain it?"

I bite my lip and close my eyes briefly. I feel like I may cry again, and yet I don't. There's comfort between us, but too much tension. If we could just find that right balance, we could be unstoppable. Dangerous, but unstoppable.

Another deep breath. "Okay, I don't know if this will make any sense, but this is the best way I can describe." He nods, giving me his full attention. "I _wish,_" I start putting emphasis on 'wish' so that he knows that these are parts of my six wishes. "That you would leave my life because you make it so complicated, and for the past four years, I've seen those kinds of complications as something bad." His eyes twitch in sadness, but I'm not done. "And at the same time, I _wish, _you wouldn't, leave me alone. For you to be near me all the time, because I feel, different around you. And I think, this time, it's a good different. That something's changed. Does that make sense?"

Suddenly tears come to my eyes once more. "Why did you ignore me?"

He looks away from me. "You told me to leave you alone. I was respecting your wish. Remember, I have to follow your wishes accordingly."

"But I never wished for it." I snap suddenly angry.

He sighs heavily. "Tris, just because-"

"No Four." My voice is sharp, and it gets his attention quickly. "I, did not _wish_ for you to stay away from me. I said those things because I was angry, upset, hurt and confused. But I would never wish for you to stay away. Not really." _I'd miss you too much. _His shoulders tense when my voice rises talking about that day, exactly one week ago. The bruises yellow and dull now. Practically heeled, and yet I can still feel his grip on me, tightening until there's no hope to escape.

My eyes stare him down, and at first he looks like he'll be the one to break away first, but then his gaze hardens. Different now, stronger.

"You didn't tell me because you didn't trust me. I have to ask you," _please don't. _"Do you think you'll ever trust me?" I wasn't totally expecting that.

"I want to." I say before I think too much about it. It makes my heart beat speed up once more and my cheeks turn a blushing bride pink, rather than a blotchy red. "It's really hard for me to trust people I don't know. Especially people who intimidate me."

A small smile plays on his face. Tiny, and unseen by an untrained eye, but its there. "I intimidate you? I figured you of all people wouldn't be intimidated by me."

"I'm intimidated by a lot of things. I'm just good at hiding my emotions." A small laugh escapes me. It's pitiful and depressing. "Unless I have a day like today, where I break."

Four seems to soften just a little at my confession. "Why do you need to be strong all the time? You're surrounded by all these people who would be willing to help you and who obviously love you like family. Don't you trust them to help hold you up?"

A guilty shame washes over me. There's so much I'm reluctant to even tell Christina, and we _live_ together. "Everyone knows they can come to me for advice, to keep them in line, or to share their secrets because they know I'll keep quiet." I look directly at him. "I don't like change, and I don't like burdening people with my problems. I had a bad experience asking for help not that long ago, and I guess it turned me off from seeking it. I don't even trust my brother anymore."

"You have a brother?" He sounds genuinely surprised.

I nod. "I have a really twisted and complicated backstory. I didn't want to let myself get too close to you or anyone because that means retelling my story, and in turn, reliving it. I don't like thinking about the past."

Four lets my words sink in, or at least I think he does. He looks back at the concrete and adjusts himself so that he sits up a little straighter against the wall. "I'm going to use one of my requests. You used two of your wishes today, which I will try to understand," he gives me almost a teasing look. Maybe wishing for him to leave, and wishing for him to stay wasn't the best way to use two wishes. "I request, that you tell me your backstory. It doesn't have to be now, but sometime in the near future."

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm a curious being."

My breathing skips just a bit, as he recites the exact words I told Myra when asking about her ex-boyfriend. He couldn't have heard _that._

Four stands up then, and dusts off his jeans. "I should get back to," he pauses, almost curling his lip in disgust. I'm praying he's talking about Nita. "And I should let you get back to work. Wouldn't want you getting in trouble."

"Yeah." My throat is dry.

"Tris." He says, half facing me as he reaches his hand out to help me up. I take it without even thinking or second guessing and _he's so much stronger than he looks oh my_. He pulls me up effortlessly and almost a little jerkily, like he thought I weighed more than I do. It jostles my balance that I practically fall into his chest.

The snow around us begins to fall and our breaths mix. I find myself smiling shamelessly, and he returns it. With my hands placed over his heartbeat, and his hands on the small of my back, not releasing me, I find balance. His cinnamon is overbearing in the same way as my heated blanket when our power is out. It's blissful, and I want to rest my head against his shoulder, but I can't stop looking at his eyes.

His fingers twitch at my back, and he leans in just a little, centimeter by centimeter.

A crash from the kitchen startles me and I pull from his gaze. I can hear Matthew and David arguing even from out here.

"I should probably go." _I don't want to go._

"Yeah." He says quietly, but he doesn't release me.

"What are we doing?" I ask after a moment.

"Whatever we want." He says, then blushes for a moment. "I'd like to use another request."

I nod my head, waiting, feeling almost excited. "What time do you get off here?"

"Depends on the rush." _No it doesn't._ "Usually 2 or 3 in the morning."

He considers the time for a moment, but then has a resolve on his face. "Then if it's not too much, I would like to request that I be allowed to take you somewhere when you get off tonight."

My heart is in my throat and my chest burns. "Like a date?" It's completely scratchy, but Four seems to like it.

"If that's what you'd like. I just want to be able to sit down and get to know you, and take you to one of my favorite places in Chicago."

_At 3 in the morning?_ "Okay."

He smiles and then releases me. I hate the feeling of him walking away. "And Tris," he says as he takes a last look at me. "just so you know, the rumors you hear about me, aren't true."

"What rumors?" I squeak. He was gone when Myra and I talked about that!

"Four inches. Not even close." He gives me a Zeke worthy smirk and walks around the side of the building.

My face is completely white and my knees threatening to give way as I walk back in. Shauna is at her locker, once again eating; pickles this time, and I can spot peanut butter on her fingers. She ignores me, but looks like she may start crying or laughing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Matthew says as I walk out onto the main floor. Zeke and Nita are gone, as well as Four.

"Something like that." I mumble. "Why were you and David fighting? David never raises his voice."

Matthew grumbles slightly and looks over his shoulder to make sure David wasn't listening. "The guy has been touchy all day. I messed up an order on a burger and he threw a plate at my head. I swear, something is definitely shaking him up. And it scared me. He had this look of death in his face when he yelled." Matthew seems to brush it off then. "Where were you?"

"Outside. I needed some fresh air."

"And some of Four's air by the looks of it." Christina walks casually by me. "I saw you two out there." She's not dressed in her uniform anymore.

I shrug. "Doesn't seem to be any of your business."

I can hear Lynn whistle from the counter. "Does Miss Ice Queen have a crush on Four?"

Words are caught in my throat as I don't answer her. But that only makes everyone in the room smirk. I gave them an answer without verbally saying. Christina laughs.

"Why aren't you dressed for work anymore?" I ask through grit teeth.

"Got called in to give a new girl a tour. Her name is Glimmer. Poor soul."

"Still better than Cherry." Marlene smiles easily, making fun of herself.

I really should try trusting these guys more. They are like a distant family that I'm always surrounded by. And I know that they will take secrets to the grave for me if I asked. Baby steps I suppose. "I know the new girl, be nice okay?"

Everyone gives me a funny look. "What do you mean you know her?"

"She was in one of my classes this semester."

Matthew gives me a thoroughly disappointed look. "You didn't sign her up for this, did you? You didn't actually recommend someone to get started into this?"

"No! No I never told her about what I do. Her apartment is located near one of Eric's hideouts. They knew each other before I knew her. He told her about the job, she accepted and then he told her to ask me questions this morning. Said her name would be Glimmer."

They all look happy with my answer. "And I'm seeing Four tonight." I say quickly and run back out onto the floor.

I hear a collective "WHAT?!" from the back, and it actually makes me smile. I then hear Shauna walk back in as Christina begins to laugh hysterically.

"What'd I miss? Guys?" I hear her say. Murmuring answers her as I take a customer's order. I hear her then say "Finally!" and I blush.

None of them say anything else to me as the night goes on. Around midnight is when I really start to feel nerves prick at me from all angles. I'm forking my own piece of cake, a new recipe that Matthew tried, and loving it, but too anxious to eat. It's a mix of half red velvet cake and yellow cake. It looks orange, but it tastes delightful with a cream cheese frosting.

"Excuse me?" I prim and proper voice calls from behind me. I swivel in my seat. "Are you Beatrice Prior?"

A stout looking man in a blue lab coat carrying a briefcase stands before me. "Yes. Can I help you?"

He smiles, and sets his briefcase on the counter, taking a seat next to me. "My name is Fernando. I work with Jeanine Matthews and I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about your trial experiment."

"Why?"

He smiles. "Well, it seems to have been a success, and frankly, we'd like to start you on another dosage as soon as possible."

****Hey hey hey! This was a super long chapter for you guys and I'm super happy with the way it turned out! We finally got our FourTris moment, and more to come! Guys… next chapter, will be Four's POV **

**Hope you enjoy the story and happy reading! Don't forget to review!****


	23. Chapter 23

****Honestly guys and gals (and everyone in between) I can't believe I've gotten to Chapter 23 already! I had 54 reviews alone on the last chapter and I'm so stoked you enjoyed it! And to think I started this story just over a year ago! Wow… 524 Reviews, 111,580 Words, 487 Followers, 301 Favorites, and 83,311 views later… You people are the best and I'm so glad I started this story and stuck with it!**

**Also, small thing I've noticed when writing: it takes me like a billion times longer to pump out chapters in Tobias/Four's point of view for some reason. Maybe it's cause I don't usually write in a guy's point of view and this is still new territory for me? IDK. So heads up for any future FOUR POV chaps, they will probably take longer to get out than TRIS POV. This is an advance apology!**

**REVIEWS:**

**MzTru2918 - Your question will be answered in this chapter!**

**SK92Divergent - Thank you for pointing out my misuse of the word! haha oops**

**Divergent Kitty - I haven't decided if this story will go to an M rating. Right now it's at a T and I have a separate story set up for M chapters so people can read those if they like. I'm considering it, but no decisions have been made :)**

**Windchimed - Your question will be answered in this chapter!**

**Unknown - Writing is not as easy as it sounds! Haha it takes practice, and you have to be willing to go places you never thought you would; cross boundaries that in your mind shouldn't be crossed. It helps if you force yourself to sit down every day and write just 300 words. This unlocks your unconscious and it will be much easier to write! Then you can start using the Thesaurus to use variety. AND MAKE SURE TO USE SENSORY DETAIL: what does the character see, smell, taste, feel, hear? These are super important. Also, _show_ the reader what the character is seeing, feeling, smelling... don't just tell us. Make it relatable. And as a side note, I try to tell myself stories every night before I go to bed: insert myself into books, movies, fanfics, or come up with something completely new just to keep my ideas going. Hope that helps! **

**Dorian Havilliard - do you think me that cruel? *evil laugh***

**Small tribute to Veronica Roth in this chapter, see if you can find it! (it's pretty obvious lol)****

**Four POV – Tuesday, December 9****th**

"And Tris, just so you know, the rumors you hear about me, aren't true."

She turns a delicate shade of pink in the face and her voice becomes high like a baby bird. "What rumors?"

I give her my best smirk, even though it feels totally out of character. "Four inches. Not even close." My grin widens as I leave her behind the building looking like she just stepped into a sauna, face now red, lips parted, eyes wide and glazed, and her breathing was heavy. Not to mention it did not help me-trying to be a gentleman and not look at her chest-_has she hit some kind of late female growth spurt?_ Either way, I couldn't _not_ enjoy the sight, or the feel as I held her against me. Oh, she smelled like pine and rain with small hints of vanilla. Her heat beating down on me, encasing me and blurring my concentration. We fit perfectly together. The only issue now is our defensive nature; we both have our pasts locked up away from the world, and we're both incredibly stubborn. Yet I feel myself wanting to spill everything to her. As though she were the only person meant to hear it. With Zeke it even took some coaxing to get my life story out. But with Tris, it's easy. Simple. And also delicate and stiff, I need to be careful about what I ask or say, because she may in turn close up completely.

Suddenly the reality of the situation bares down on me. I just made a sexual joke in front of her. Who's to say that won't cause her to close up? What if I just ruined my chances before it even began?

"What's got your panties in a bunch?"

I flinch slightly at Zeke's voice, loud and on a sugar high. He's leaning against the outer brick wall of the Pit, some chocolate frosting still lingering on his upper lip, and what looks like vanilla as well.

"Nothing." I say, small amounts of worry leaving my voice. _What if I just royally screwed up?_

Zeke shrugs, but not before giving me a small smirk. "Nita left btws."

"Must you talk like a teenager?"

Rather than follow in the footsteps of his sugary brain, he becomes serious. "You're more worried about my speech patterns than the fact that your girlfriend left because you abandoned her?"

I can feel my shoulders stiffen as I brush him off walking in the direction of his car. "Why does everyone think she's my girlfriend? _You_, especially Zeke. _You, _should know better."

Zeke's thoughts visibly turn over in his head. "She seems to think you two are together. And I just figured since nothing has happened with you and Tris,"

It's not often I rub things in Zeke's face; when he's wrong, when he loses, I remain quiet. This is not one of those times. "I'm seeing her tonight."

"Say again?" His mouth is hanging open and his eyes dash back and forth between the Pit and me.

"I'm seeing her tonight." There's a smile on my face and I don't bother stopping it this time. For the first moment in a long time, I am genuinely happy with the way things are turning out, not to mention Zeke's face is pretty hilarious.

* * *

I feel like I should change clothes. Something nicer maybe? Well we're going to be outside so not that nice, but warm.

Three button up shirts lie out on the bed in front of me, and I feel like I'm going to start ripping my hair out at any point. It's just a date! And then it's not… Button up shirts are too formal, maybe reserved for a dinner of sorts. Same with the sweater vest, and I hardly ever even wear that. Pants are a struggle too; jeans or dressy jeans. Maybe I should just wear sweats.

My phone buzzes.

_What's going on with you?_

Nita. I really don't want to respond, but that's rude. And I don't have the fondest memories of what would happen to me when I was rude as a child. He taught me well, and then, he didn't.

_**Nothing. Why?**_

_You ditched me at the restaurant Toby. Who does that?_

_**I'm sorry. Something came up.**_

_You mean _she_ came up._

_**No. **_Yes. That's exactly what it means.

_Don't lie. You're not good at it._

_**What do you want Nita?**_

_To know where this is going._

_**This?**_

_I MEAN US TOBIAS!_

The wince that crosses my face is accompanied by a groan in the back of my throat.

_**We're friends.**_

I stare at my phone for a minute, waiting for her usual quick response. But it doesn't come. Nita was always competitive when we were young, and she doesn't like being told no. That's the main reason why we became friends, I was a submissive kid who always said yes. Then I grew up.

My phone goes off a half hour later.

_Open up._

There's a knock at my door. I feel my shoulders tense, and my heart speed up a bit. I don't like this at all.

Making sure my instructor face is in place before unlocking the door, I glance through the peephole briefly. Nita is in the same clothes from earlier, her hair is frizzier, and she has heavy day makeup running under her eyes. The snow stopped falling a while ago, and the wind died down, so I don't feel that bad not letting her in right away. Plus I'm worried if she comes in, she won't leave.

I unlock the door, slowly.

She releases a small smile and a clouded breath floats up her face. "Toby," her voice is very loving, but it makes my stomach turn.

I stand off to the side so she can come in. She scurries through and immediately takes her coat off, but doesn't sit down.

"We need to talk."

My shoulders rise and fall briefly, then I lean back up against the wall. "Okay." I expect her to start the conversation, or at least ask something, but she just stands there sighing and staring at me. It takes a lot of will power not to roll my eyes, but I do cross my arms over my chest.

"What would you like to talk about Nita?"

She releases a heavier sigh. "You've been leading me on."

_"What?"_

"Don't deny it _Four_. You've been staring at me like I'm the only woman in the area, and then ditching me and not asking me out. You asked if I wanted to go to the Pit for a burger today, but that's not really a date."

I stare at her, and cock my eyebrow. "First off, I asked if you wanted to tag along because you didn't seem to get the hint that I was leaving for the day. I was not _asking you out_." I'm still not sure how she found my office on campus. Amar even seemed a bit put off by her. "And I haven't been leading you on Nita. What gave you that idea?"

"You did." Her mouth curls like she's trying to smile, but it doesn't turn out well. "When you saw me in the hospital, you said my name like a prayer."

"I was surprised."

"And when I went to hunt you down at the gym, your eyes were raking over my body like a hungry animal. It was primal and so hot." She batts her lashes. "Don't you see? We're meant to be."

Oh shit. She accuses me of leading her on, then insists we're supposed to be together? "What?"

She moves towards me, and it's only in that moment I realize she isn't wearing a bra under her shirt. I don't stare, but it's not that hard to notice, and I don't keep my apartment very warm.

"Nita I'm flattered, but that's not it at all. I was just surprised to see you at the hospital. And I was staring at you at the gym because I wasn't expecting you to show up dressed as you did. And seriously Nita, dressing that way to get a guy's attention doesn't reveal yourself as a very secure person."

She stops, and gapes at me like I've slapped her.

"Nita I am your friend, and I'm willing to still be your friend, but you have to understand that this, we… us. It won't happen, in _that_ way."

She bites her bottom lip and continues to stand her ground, which I admire. "It's that waitress. The one from the hospital. You always follow after her." Her voice suddenly turns dark and is filled with malice. "What's so great about her anyway? She's not even that pretty!"

I'm tempted to yell that Tris is far prettier, and overall more beautiful than Nita could ever be. But I don't.

Heat pools in my spine and works it's way up to my shoulders and down my arms, as I can feel my face harden. My fists clench, but I won't hit her. I would never hit someone unless I had no other choice. "Looks aren't everything."

"Oh please! She's a child! She's still in school, paying rent and working a lame job. I've actually done something with my life!"

"It's not a competition." And if it were, _Tris_ would win.

Nita storms off further into my apartment, to what looks like the kitchen, but something catches her eye. She turns sharply and heads into my bedroom. This time I walk after her.

She stands at the base of my bed, looking at the clothes I have lying on the covers. The clothes I was debating wearing tonight. She looks back at me, disgust in her eyes.

"Are you _going_ somewhere tonight?"

"If I am, it's none of your business."

She scoffed. "What happened to being friends? Friends tell each other where they're going."

"I don't know if I consider you a friend right now." It leaves my mouth before I can think it over. I don't regret saying it, but it still doesn't replace the guilt rising in my chest at the pained look on her face. "I think you should go."

Nita's face contorts to a pathetic blend of sadness, loss, and anger. She marches past me and grabs her coat before throwing a curse in my direction, then slamming the door behind her.

I glance at the clock, not really phased at all. I have six hours before I need to pick Tris up. Now I just need to figure out what to wear.

* * *

Tris stands under the overhang of the Pit's front door. A blonde girl stands with her in the same uniform - she must be new, - snickering as I pull up.

Tris glances over at me and shoos the other blonde away, before throwing her hood over her head and walking quickly towards me. She looks nervous as she gets into the car, but not frightened. Not that I was expecting her to look relieved to see me, but it would have calmed my anxiety.

_She's just a girl._ No. No she's not.

Her hair is down around her shoulders, straight, but messy. Her black jacket is zipped up to her collar, but I don't blame her. It's snowing.

I made sure the car was warm before I drove back to the Pit. She looks so fragile like she might shatter if it's too cold, even though I know she won't. She's too stubborn to shatter, even if she's thrown against a cement floor. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's been through some kind of Hell to have such an exterior. But I do know better. It takes a battered past to see another one.

"Are you going to drive, or are we going to sit here?" She asks suddenly, staring at me.

My head flinches back a few centimeters, startled to say the least. "Sorry." I say quietly.

This seems to make her smile just a little, even though she seems to push it down as soon as it comes. She looks good when she smiles. I wish she would do it more.

I pull out of the parking lot and into the light flurry of the stormy December night. All around us is plain black and white scenery, everything else is washed out. It's incredibly calming, and I'm not the only one who seems to think so. Tris's hands relax in her lap from a fist to an unclenched pose. Her breathing is more even as she keeps her eyes straight ahead of her.

"Why do you keep looking at me?"

All I can do is shrug. I was only using my peripheral vision. "I'm impressed you noticed."

"It's not that hard to spot someone staring."

"You speaking from experience?"

She clenches her jaw and releases a slow breath. It's not hard to realize that she's forcing herself to talk. "Practice." Her voice cracks slightly, and she rolls her shoulders, as though a sour feeling washed over her.

I can feel my own upper body tense just slightly. Why would she need practice watching for people's eyes on her?

"That's concerning." I say quietly.

"Story of my life." She mutters looking down at her lap. "Where are we going?"

"I already told you. One of my favorite places in Chicago."

She snorts. "At 3 in the morning. That sounds sketchy in itself."

"You didn't get off until 3. That's not my fault."

"No. I guess not. Do I get a hint?"

"Water."

Her eyes narrow. "What?"

"Water. That's your hint."

"Are we going to the pier? It's closed this time of night." She sounds almost a little frantic yet curious, and it makes me worry.

"No. We're not going to the pier." My gut rolls at the thought of the Ferris Wheel. But I smile suddenly before I can stop my train of thought. "I used to sneak down there in high school after hours. With Zeke. And sometimes Uriah."

She looks almost appalled that I would break the rules. "Why?"

I shrug. "We were teenage guys. Not to mention there was a secret club at our school that would play paintball down there every third Friday of the month."

Tris smiles wider than I've seen her smile, and it makes my heart speed up. It's a mischievous smile, and it's directed completely at me. "You were part of the Paintball Bandits?"

I smile at the secret name we gave ourselves. "The newspapers called us 'hooligans'. They thought we were simply destroying the pier. Even with added security measures, we still got in and played."

"The hole in the fence on the south side, near the carousel."

I nod. She's still smiling. Why?

Wait . . .

"How did you know we called ourselves the Paintball Bandits? We never advertised that fact."

"How do you _think_?"

"No way."

"Yes way." She's close to giggling.

"You were there?!"

She begins to laugh, full and happy.

I turn down the street and head up to the look-out while she continues.

"We must have been on opposite teams!" She says grabbing her stomach. "What was your code name?"

"Lancelot."

She snorts.

"Zeke picked it out." I say recovering what little dignity I have left.

Tris's laughter dies down for just a moment as her face suddenly registers recognition. "Oh no. . ." She returns to the incessant giggling. "Lancelot. Oh I'm in trouble."

"Why? What was your name?"

"BB."

I about stop the car. She dissolves once again into laughing and tears begin to fall down her cheeks. I'm torn between watching her enjoy herself like a normal girl her age should, but also continue to the spot so I can learn more about her. Most of which will not include laughing fits.

"BB." I say calmly, trying not to smile too hard. "You were BB? That doesn't even seem possible!"

"I know! No one would believe me when they found out who I was."

"BB. The infamous sniper for the blue team. You tagged more people out than anyone."

She shrugs, smiling. "What can I say? I'm a good shot."

"And you edged over my record by three points." I say giving her a new challenging look. "Bet I could beat you now."

She shrugs. "I guess we'll never know."

"How old were you when you joined?"

"14. I was only there less than two years."

I nod. "You left so suddenly. Even your team didn't know where you went. And since we didn't use real identities, no one could track you down and make sure you were okay."

She doesn't say anything. Her smile dies on her face, wilting like a rose. "I know. It- that's when _it_ happened."

A brick drops in my gut at the look on her face. Resolved. Angry. Confused. Melancholy. And somewhat pissed off. This is where it starts.

I pull into the empty parking lot, and turn off the car.

"We're getting out?" She asks, suddenly huddling into herself to save heat.

"For a moment. Come on. I promise it'll be warm where we're going."

She looks skeptical as the snow has begun to fall heavier. But decides to take a chance and come with me. It's a small victory that she trusts me to lead her somewhere safe.

My feet slip on the small patch of ice just outside the car.

"You okay Four?" She asks as she walks around to me.

"Yeah. I'm good." But my dignity is damaged.

We walk together out to the look-out over the city. "So your favorite place in the city is a famous make-out location?" She gives me a look, as though teasing.

"Not exactly." I take her hand and she seems to suck in a breath quickly. I ignore the tingling in my chest and the adrenaline in my legs as I pull her past the _Do Not Pass_ sign, at the top of the cliff. We walk down the hill towards a section of long grass, winding down further, until we hit a pathway that's been closed for nearly two decades. I take her on the path and lead her towards a small cave opening guarded by bushes. She pulls back slightly, but when I look at her, she seems determined and straightens out. I give her a reassuring smile, but I'm not sure she can see it in the dark. The tunnel is warm from trapped heat, and I can feel her relax next to me.

"Not much further." I say, my voice beginning to echo.

"What's that sound?" She asks as we near the water.

I just smile.

At the end of the tunnel, is my spot. A small opening behind the waterfall. I built a small fire pit here a year ago. My wood stash is untouched. I begin to build a new fire.

Tris stands in awe of the location. She walks out towards the ledge and looks out at the water she could touch if her arms were a little longer.

"Don't get too close." I say to her, as the fire begins to catch the wood.

She turns to face me. "What is this place?"

"Veronica Falls."

Her eyebrows crease together. "You mean Manson Falls."

"No. I mean Veronica Falls. The story is wrong."

She sits down next to me on a spare log by the fire. "What do you mean? The falls were named after one of Chicago's early architects Manson Roth."

"Only as of 1919. Before that it was known as Veronica Falls. For his daughter, Veronica Roth."

"Okay, professor. What's the story?"

I smirk at the nickname. "Basically, Manson Roth was born poor, got rich from his business and wanted only the best for his children, including his youngest daughter, Veronica. This means that he only wanted them to marry above or equal to their new station, which narrowed down the field quite a bit. And Manson had a small say in all of his children's marriages. In 1892, the year before the Chicago World Fair, Veronica fell in love with a poor tailor named Fredrick, who had been sewing her maid's clothes for years. She had her own personal tailor who was Fredrick's mentor. Anyway, Veronica told her father that she was in love, at sixteen no less, with Fredrick, and he with her."

"Was he in love with her?"

"There's a theory that he only said he loved her for the money, but I like to think he really did."

She smirks. "Four, are you a hopeless romantic?"

"Hush and let me finish."

Her smile widens.

"Like I was saying. Veronica said she was in love with someone below her station and her father, Manson, wouldn't hear of it. He banished the tailor from the house and locked her up until he could find a suitable match for his careless daughter. When he finally found a match for her a year later, she had grown depressed and withdrawn. The man she was matched with was much older than she was, had already married once and was a bit of a drinker. But he was rich.

They went on supervised dates, and this worsened Veronica's condition. However, she began to perk up once more, and no one knew why, until her father found her, the night before her wedding in bed with that poor tailor Fredrick. He got his rifle and shot Fredrick in the chest. Veronica ran from the house and came up to the look-out, her favorite spot in the city."

"That's a long way to run."

"She was desperate."

I thought I heard Tris mumble _I know what that's like,_ but I ignore it for now. "She came to the falls and broke down. Her father came to find her, and when he tried to approach her, she jumped."

"Oh."

"They recovered her body a few days later. And then, to everyone in town for the next sixteen years, the falls were named Veronica Falls, because Veronica, literally falls down. Only on Manson's death bed 26 years later, did he use the rest of his money to officially name it Manson Falls. Not out of vanity, but because he couldn't bear to hear of his daughter's death as a landmark one more time."

Tris's face is in complete shock. "Are you shitting me?"

I laugh. "No. Look it up in the library. Just look under Manson Falls and make sure it's before 1919. I don't think they'll have anything listed under Veronica Falls, but you can check."

"Wow."

"And this location, I call the Chasm."

"Why?"

"Because we're close to the bottom. If you jump now, you'll be lost forever. The water is ice cold and swirls so much it would pull you under. Your body would show up after a week or so. But I would advise not jumping. We're still about forty feet up."

Tris looks over towards the edge and grimaces. "That's cheery."

There's a small silence between us. Neither of us talks, and we don't look at each other. Not directly anyway. I've never been _this _comfortable _this_ quickly around a girl. Actually I can't remember being this comfortable around any girl. Maybe Nita at one point in my childhood. Now, the thought of her makes me shudder. Nita and Tris are on completely different spectrums of what makes a girl a girl, and yet, they both have one main trait in common. They're both determined. Nita is determined to get her way, and I have a feeling she'd be willing to go to great lengths in order to reach it. Tris on the other hand, is determined to shut herself out from strangers, and to protect her friends. How many times have I seen her calm them down? Straighten them out? I've seen her in action, even when she doesn't know it. She's a fierce friend, loyal, if only I could make her see that.

"What did you want to know first?" She asks in a small voice, arms now wrapped defensively around her mid-section.

I _did_ say I wanted to get to know her. "What's your favorite color?"

This takes her by surprise. Her shoulders loosen, and her lips – which at the moment are full and pink – curl slightly.

"Moss green." She flushes a bit, and ducks her head down. "It was my mom's eye color. Now it's my brother's."

"Was?" My voice guarded now in concern. Talking about a loved one in the past tense is never a good sign.

She nods, then looks up at me. "My parents died when I was sixteen. Car crash. Drunk driver." This is her _it. _Why she left the paintball team. Why she closed off. It must have been the trigger. An ache burns in my arms as I watch her form dissolve into controlled despair, and I want to hold her. Make it all go away. Fight her demons off with my bare hands if I have to. Holding her earlier was too short a time.

Her expression masks her true feelings. I can hear it when she speaks. She's in pain, but she's hesitant to reveal it. _Probably doesn't want to look weak._ I can relate.

"I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "Long time ago."

"Not that long. You're twenty now? Tris that's only four years."

Her neck tenses and her eyes shut. She mumbles something under her breath, before looking over towards the falls. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Of course. Tris, if I step over any boundaries, please don't hesitate to tell me."

A small pathetic laugh escapes her. "Isn't that what tonight is about?"

"Do you really consider letting someone into your life a boundary? Opening yourself up to someone?"

Her arms tighten, and I fear I may have pushed too far. But then she relaxes once more. Breathing deeply, slowly, calmly. "I'm trying."

I nod. "I know. How about you ask me something now?"

She relaxes even more and finally meets my eyes, glad the attention isn't on her anymore. Even though, all of my attention has been on her since I saw her stumble into Amar's class, almost three months ago.

I'm not quite sure what her first question will be. Knowing Tris, and I don't know her _that_ well, it could be something simple, or something complicated and completely unexpected.

"What is one of your fears?"

A breathy laugh escapes me as I try handle the situation delicately without sending myself into a panic attack. "Are you planning on using them against me?"

"No. I'm just trying to get to know you. Just tell me one. Doesn't have to be your worst."

"Okay, I'm afraid of heights."

This peaks her interest. "Really?" Then she looks around. "But we're inside of a cliff."

"I had to swallow bile once or twice when we took the path near the edge." I try to sound casual, but I know it's a failed attempt.

"Honestly," she begins, now fiddling with the sleeves in her jacket. "I thought you weren't afraid of anything."

"Everyone's afraid of something Tris." _Or someone._

Tris looks back at me. Her silvery blue eyes seem wet, wide, beautiful. "Your turn." She says.

I ask her when her birthday is. She says May 12th.

She asks me what I like to do for fun. I tell her read, work on the computer, and train at the gym owned by Amar's cousin. Including: floor work, knives, guns, training. I half expected her to be repulsed by the idea, since it sounds like I'm a complete jock just looking for adrenaline and _manly_ sport. But she's interested. I tell her it makes me feel powerful. And she smiles. She asks if I would be willing to take her there. I say yes.

I ask her what her favorite food is. She says hamburger, and blushes. It makes me laugh, then she starts to laugh too.

She asks me what I want to do with the rest of my life. I tell her something with computers, or teaching. I haven't decided yet. She then tells me that she could see me working in politics. To which I shudder and give her a big resounding "No."

I ask her the same. She shrugs.

She asks what my middle name is. I tense, but force myself to say that my middle name is my _dad's_ name. I don't elaborate. She doesn't push.

I ask her if she's ever been to Europe. She says no. But a gleam takes over her eyes and she says how she would love to go to Spain and Italy. I ask if she speaks Spanish or Italian. She snorts and says no. She'd go purely for the culture and the food.

She asks me what kind of music I like to listen to. I tell her I don't really listen to music, but if I did, I have a soft spot for contemporary rock.

I ask her if she's ever died her hair. She says no.

She asks me the same question with a smirk on her face. I tell her I went blue one year for Halloween when I was five.

A giggle bubbles out of her pink lips. The light from our campfire illuminates her like an angel; it sounds cliché, but it's true. The golden warmth dances off of her skin, and creates soft shadows on the cave wall.

I ask what her favorite book is. She says Pride and Prejudice.

She asks me how I knew she'd heard about the "4-inch" rumor. I smirk and tell her I'm very good at reading lips. Plus, her friend doesn't know how much her voice can carry in a small area.

Tris seems to groan again and puts her head in her hands briefly, and I feel a warmth build in my chest. Then she picks her head up. "I have an idea." She reaches into my pack and takes out one of the sandwiches I packed.

"I'm all ears."

"Let's do a round or two of two truths and a lie."

"Sounds good. You want to start?"

She nods. "Okay. One: I'm allergic to cats. Two: bugs make me squirm. Three: I don't like whipped cream."

"Well I've never seen you around either of those three." I start, staring at her. Trying to find the crack that always accompanies a lie. Problem is, she's a good liar. "I'm going to say that you _are_ allergic to cats, you _don't _like whipped cream, and that bugs _don't _make you squirm. The bugs is the lie."

"You are correct Mr. Interrogator Sir."

"That's a horrible name."

She laughs. "I know. Your turn."

"Alright. One: I wore glasses as a kid. Two: I detest swimming. Three: I love strawberries."

Tris gives me a once over quickly, probably looking for the chink in my lie too. Then she smiles. "You didn't wear glasses as a kid."

I tip my water bottle towards her before taking a swing. "Correct."

Then she cocks her head to the side. "Why don't you like swimming?"

It would be easier to come out and say that I don't like the water, or that I can't swim. But I want to be honest with her. I have to be. "I don't like taking off my shirt."

"Why?"

"I think it's your turn." I say quickly.

She looks at me strangely, like a puzzle she's trying to complete. How do you tell someone that your father used to beat you as a kid with his belt or anything else he could find and left scars on your back the size of a yard stick?

I don't know.

Tris leans back and thinks for a moment, her eyes now dark. But it's not a desirable dark. It's a painful dark. She's about to open up. "One: It's my fault my parents are dead." Holy shit. "Two: I wish I were dead at least twice a week." Her eyes meet mine in a deadly stare. "Three: I'm in a constant state of fear but don't show it."

"Tris—"

She forces a laugh. "How's that for being open?" Her icy eyes continue to stare me down, watching intently for my emotions to show. She's waiting for a reaction. She's waiting to see if I'll leave.

"I'm not sure I want to guess this one."

"Please. I want you to."

I release a shaky breath, and mask my face. "It's not your fault your parents died."

"Err wrong."

"You didn't hold a gun to their heads."

"I might as well have."

"Tris, you said your parents were hit by a drunk driver. Now, unless that driver was you, there is no reason to think that it was your fault. . . You weren't the driver right?"

She scoffs. "No. But I'm the reason they were on the road that night. I may not have fired the gun, but I loaded the bullet in the chamber."

"What do you mean, _you were the reason_?"

"They should have been out enjoying themselves. It was a special night for them to get away from my brother and I. My brother was at a friend's house anyway. I was home alone, heard a noise, and called them."

"Heard a noise?"

"That's what the official police report says."

"Did something else happen?"

She fidgets with her fingers. "They called me crazy." There's a new thickness in her voice, and it makes my lungs tighten. "They said I heard noises, and had probably been hearing noises my whole life. I called them because I was scared, and my, my selfless parents, dropped their night out and came heading towards me in an instant." Her voice cracks and she drags in a wet breath of air, biting her lip to keep it from quivering. "They shouldn't have been there."

My fists clench and unclench repeatedly as this new silence drags on. Tris is trying to compose herself, but she's not doing a very good job. She sits higher up on the makeshift bench and pulls her legs into her chest. "I miss my mom and dad. And I get this sharp rip through my chest, whenever I wish for them back, because I know I'll never see them again." A few tears leak from her eyes, and she lets them run.

"What did you hear?"

"What?"

"You said the police report says you heard a noise. Obviously it's more than that. What did you hear?"

Her face is ghostly white. "Voices. Real people. Two of them. They were downstairs. They ran off when the police came around."

"Did you see them?"

"No." She takes in my reaction, mistaking it for skepticism no doubt. "Go ahead, call me crazy. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to see me again."

How am I supposed to respond to something like that? She might shut off even further if I take the sensitive route and comfort her. She might fight back if I tell her it was her fault. I don't see a win to this situation. Unless. . .

"I don't think you're crazy. I'm interested in your story. And I've never been good with grief Tris, but it sounds like you loved your parents very much, and they you. But you need to look on the bright side of things and be thankful for what you had with them."

"What I had?"

"A loving relationship. Many people don't get that with their family."

She wipes away the moisture on her face and rests her head on her arms. "Like you?"

"I never said—"

"You didn't need to." Her voice is calmer now. "I could tell that something was off. You had a good relationship with your minimal amount of friends, no crazy ex-girlfriend stories have come up so I ruled that out, so it had to a family thing."

My mouth is open to protest, but I sigh in defeat. She's too good an observer.

"What happened?" She asks relaxing just a bit.

"I'll give you the two truths and a lie version." I spit humorlessly. She just waits. "One: my mother" left me "died when I was young. Two: my father enjoyed beating the crap out of me. Three: I killed him."

She takes a quick intake of air, worry evident on her face. "You didn't kill him."

"Right again, but that doesn't mean I didn't wish for the strength to every time he came at me. Which was almost every night."

"How did you get away?"

"The day I turned eighteen I left. He never came looking for me, not that I wanted him to. I've seen him once or twice in public, but I never talk to him. I'm worried I'll just lose my temper and wrap my hands around his throat. But I'm also worried that I'll cower again in front of him."

"You're kinda scary Four."

"Don't call me that." The words leave my mouth before regret seeps in.

She shifts then, curiously glancing at me and tossing small bits of debris into our shrinking fire. "What should I call you then?"

"Nothing, yet."

"Okay."

A beeping interrupts the silence and I look around frantically, the hairs on the back of my neck on edge. Tris smirks at my reaction and pulls her phone out of her pocket.

"It's just my alarm. Shauna made me set one to go off at 5AM so I'd still be able to get enough sleep tonight."

I nod. "How practical."

"Drive me home?"

Standing, I offer her my hand. "Nah, I think I'll make you walk. Looks like you need the exercise anyway."

"Mr. Eaton, are you calling me fat?" She narrows her eyes in mock humor.

"Not directly, never." She's actually way to thin. When I met her, she looked one step short of skeletal, like the supermodels in magazines who think that they're beautiful. She needs more meat on her bones. Now she seems to have hit some spurt; her hips are wider, and her chest, well. . . is bigger. But that's not the filling out I wished she'd get. Did she get implants? God I hope not.

I put out the fire, and walk with her back up the trail to the parking lot. Ignoring the queasy feeling in my gut as we near the edge. Suddenly my hand is engulfed by warmth, and my nerves calm. I glance down and see Tris blushing, her hand locked with mine.

"I'm sorry, that was forward," she mumbles as she goes to pull away. But I hold tighter. Her blush intensifies and a new warm feeling swirls inside me. Not nerves, not fright, but an intense heat, a building euphoria.

I pull her towards the car quickly. _I cannot believe I was getting turned on by holding her hand._ How childish am I?

Just as I grab the keys out of my pocket, my foot hits a patch of ice once more, but this time I go down. A loud grunt leaves me as I hit the frozen asphalt.

"Four?!" Tris is around the side of the car kneeling down beside me almost as soon as I hit the ground.

"I said not to call me that." I groan as I move to get up.

"Right sorry."

"It's okay Tris. Or would you prefer Beatrice? I never asked."

"Tris is good. Are you sure you're okay?"

I go from my butt, to my knees to my feet gradually, with Tris holding onto my arm the whole time. She doesn't need to, but I don't tell her that. A rush of cold hits me from behind then.

"What the?" I turn and pat the back of my jeans.

Tris begins to giggle. "Did you rip your jeans?"

I can feel my cheeks turn red, and her giggling intensifies. "I won't look. Promise." She says as she walks around the side of the car once more.

I get into the car grumbling to myself, and blast the heat as I pull out of the lot. After her giggling dies down the ride is fairly quiet.

There isn't much traffic out tonight, not that I expected much at 5AM. There are a few people already heading out to work, and some night shifts heading home. We make it through the city effortlessly, and I drive out towards the direction we headed when I walked her home from the hospital. When we separated, I had half a hard on and desire to know her more. Now she's here in my car, I still have half a hard on, I do know her a bit more, and the primal instinct in me would love nothing more than to take her home with me. If I think of specifics, the half hard on straining in my jeans will become a two-thirds hard on.

I shift in my seat delicately, trying to relieve some pressure, and picture grandmas in showers, hairless cats, and heights. It works.

"You okay?" Her voice slides through the air like a music note.

"Yeah. Just tired." My voice cracks.

I can feel her eyes on me, and it's not helping matters. I would rather have my blood rush to my cheeks in embarrassment rather than have her see my jeans.

She smirks just a bit, and settles back in her seat. I hope she's just smiling because she's having a good time.

"Which way?" I ask when we reach the border of the Woods District.

"Take a right at the stop sign. Then continue down Cedar for two blocks."

A lump forms in my throat and my jeans tighten again. Cedar?

"Okay, now take a left on Evergreen, and I'm the first complex on the left." She points her directions at the window as I take them.

I pull into the parking lot and put the car in park.

"Thanks for tonight. I'm glad I went." She says sweetly, innocently.

"Yeah, me too."

Tris smiles gently at me and unbuckles herself. I thank whatever higher power is watching over us that she doesn't mention my jeans.

"Hey Four?"

"Yeah?"

"Earlier today, or I guess yesterday now, you requested to know about my backstory." I nod, watching as her blonde hair contrasts the dark night sky and her breath floats around her like smoke. "I want to tell you a big part of it, but I think it would be easier to show you." Her hands are shaking, and I don't think it's from the below freezing temperatures. "You found me outside of Dauntless a few weeks ago. I want to tell you why I was there that night. Well, show you." My stomach is in my throat. "Will you meet me there on Saturday, around midnight?"

"Inside? Or outside?" I ask, my voice hardening.

She looks nervous. "Inside. Just pick a table, and I'll find you."

I feel like I might throw up. "Okay."

Tris smiles, but it's not an easy smile. "Okay, great. See you there." Then she seems to frown at herself before closing the door and jogging up to her apartment. Third floor, fifth room over. Corner room, on the highest floor. Fantastic.

Adrenaline shoots through my limbs as I pull out of the lot, and back onto the street, taking a right back onto Cedar, continuing down two blocks and pulling a right onto Willow. Pulling into the second lot.

Of three things I'm absolutely sure: One, Tris is starting to open up to me. Two, she wants to meet me at a dance club to explain her backstory, and I haven't decided if that should set off red flags or not. Three, the girl of my dreams lives two blocks from me, out of all of Chicago, a five minute drive at most, and I never knew.

****Just to clarify, I do not think of Veronica Roth in the way I portrayed the character with her name, nor do I wish she would jump off a cliff. I wish she would write more books LOL **

**Also, I have no idea if there really is a place called Manson Falls. It's made up. Nor do I know if there is a place called Veronica Falls. Or if there's even a waterfall in the city boundaries of Chicago. But for my story's-sake there is. I am in no way claiming to know the Chicago area very well (I've never even been there). **

**Please review!****


	24. Chapter 24

**Alrighty readers of the internet and fanfiction universe, we've got ourselves another M rated chapter! Of course THIS version is the T version, but I have uploaded the original version (which is more M than T) to my story INTO THE NIGHT M SCENES. It's just called Chapter 24. The biggest difference between this chapter and the M version is that the M version goes into more detail. The type of M in this chapter is not abuse like in 19, but rather more of a sexual nature. Personally, I enjoy the M version more, but feel free to read which ever one you like!**

**As to those who submitted characters for Chapter 26, I want to give another great big thanks for participating! I will reveal who our finalists are in Chapter 25's author note and the winners in Chapter 26!**

**I got a lot of inspiration from this special scene from Mia Martina's song Beast. If you haven't heard it, go and listen!**

**I wanted to remind everyone of the characters stripper names so we don't get confused:**

**Shauna – Bambi **

**Tori – Paris **

**Tris – Raven **

**Christina – Candy **

**Marlene – Cherry **

**Lynn – Luscious **

**Myra - Glimmer**

**Also, just because I kind of go into ages again for a brief moment of this chapter, I just want to reiterate how old everyone is and when their known birthdays are. And this is just for any clarification, and for fun, because I like my characters – well these aren't **_**my**_** original characters – to have birthdays and ages because it makes them more real. Be aware that we may pass birthdays in the story unmentioned, but that's okay. I'm not going to highlight **_**everyone's**_** birthday in the story. This is purely for reference.**

**Zeke – 22 years old. Birthday: January 30****th****.**

**Christina – 20 years old. Birthday: February 27****th****.**

**Eric – 22 years old. Birthday: April 18****th****.**

**Tris – 20 years old. Birthday: May, 14****th**

**Uriah – 20 years old. Birthday: July 6****th****.**

**Lynn – 20 years old. Birthday: July 11****th****.**

**Peter – 21 years old. Birthday: August 26****th****.**

**Caleb – 21 years old. Birthday: August 31****st****. **

**Shauna – 23 years old. Birthday: September 2****nd****.**

**Marlene – 21 years old. Birthday: September 20****th****.**

**Four – 23 years old. Birthday: October 30****th****.**

**Now onto the chapter!****

**Tris POV - Tuesday, December 9th**

Something is wrong with me. That must be it. It must be the stress of finals. Yes. That's the only explanation for how I feel. Definitely. One hundred percent. Two hundred percent! Yeah.

"TRIS! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"

"NO." I back away from the door as Christina's pounding becomes more and more incessant.

"Tris Prior I swear to God if you don't open this door, I will break it down."

"You'd pay for it!"

"I have plenty of tip money left."

"Our landlord would kick you out for damages."

"Not if I gave him a lap dance to convince him otherwise."

"Christina!"

She's growling now. "I'll perform adult activities with Will on your favorite corner of the couch if you don't come out!"

"You're unbelievable!"

She's been doing this for the last hour. I need to face her eventually, but I can drag it out right? "I'm allowed some privacy in my personal life Chris!"

She laughs behind the door. "Not when _I'm_ your best friend! Come on Tris! Your life is finally interesting."

"You're only saying that because there's a guy in my life."

"So you consider him in your life huh?" I can hear the smirk on her face, and oh how I would love to wipe the floor with it.

I could escape out the window, but then I have to deal with a faulty fire escape and a possible thirty foot drop. Eric would kill me before I made it to the hospital. The scary part it I'm not exaggerating. Unless I can convince him I'm vital to whatever experiment they have me on now.

That little guy, Fernando, only briefly described this new experiment as more physical changes, but not to make me _womanly_. My chest is still a cup and a half bigger than my genetically original chest. I miss it. My waist is smaller, and my appetite has all but disappeared. They must have sped up my metabolism while convincing my stomach I don't need food.

This new experiment is supposed do other things like increase speed, energy, and possibly even my mental capacity. Maybe they really are grooming me to be an Erudite transfer.

I can't avoid Christina forever.

A deep sigh falls from my mouth as I open the door, preparing for the onslaught of questions. But they don't come.

Christina stands there, dressed and calm, smiling. "So how was it?"

I walk past her into our small living room and sit in my favorite spot. I don't think I slept at all last night. Not really.

"It was, nice actually."

She sits down next to me. "Where'd you go?"

"Manson Falls."

Christina grimaces. "He took you to the lookout? I thought he was better than that."

It's my turn to smile. "No, I mean yes we went to the lookout, but we weren't parked in his car or anything. He took me past the boundary sign, down an old pathway to a cave of sorts. He called it the Chasm. Then he told me this sad story of how the waterfall got its name."

"How's that?" Christina tucks her feet under her and listens as I tell her the story of Veronica Roth, daughter of Manson Roth, the apprentice, her love and the jump. She called bullshit, just like I did when he told me. But I looked it up last night in my lack of sleep. The story is true more or less. Four left out a few details like Manson's wife leaving him for someone else when Veronica was five years old. Or that the apprentice was in and out of prison the rest of his life, and _didn't _die from Manson's gun shot. And that Manson still has living descendants in Chicago. He could have any number of great great great grandchildren in their thirties or so, or even great great great great grandchildren now. I find myself oddly fascinated by it, and I've never really been one for history, but I'd love to meet one of them.

Then I tell Christina about the questions we asked each other, that I _attempted _to open myself up to him, and then the two truths and a lie bit.

"I used to play that all the time at home!" She says suddenly, but then her face turns somber.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you—"

Christina holds her hand up. "No Tris, I know that wasn't your intention. Just, don't say it out loud, please?" Her other hand finds its way to her ribs. This is where her uncle used to hit her the most. She does this every time the subject comes up, like they're hurting all over again. And then it reminds her of Rose, and she begins to beat herself up once more for leaving her sister there. Rose will be sixteen in April.

"Anyway," Christina waves her hand in front of her face and calming her expression. "Did you kiss?"

I can feel blood touch my cheeks and my chest heats up gradually. "Well, no."

"Tris." Christina groans my name, and she rolls her eyes at a painful angle. "Must I be tasked with holding your hand _every step_ of the way in losing your chastity?"

"Hey! I'm not completely pure. It's not like I've never kissed anyone." I smack her arm and she giggles.

"Yes, but that's ALL you've done."

"Not at the club." I snap. My mind replaying the various lap dances, and near sexual deeds I've performed.

"The club doesn't count! This is personal life Tris! You can't combine the two." I keep my eyes diverted from meeting her intense stare. She waits, a moment before she goes back to smiling and says, "I said it before Tris, and I'll reiterate, you will not be a virgin before the New Year."

I sigh heavily into the cushions, hiding my expression. The heat in my chest is no longer embarrassment, but longing, and it terrifies me. My fingers fidget by clenching and unclenching around the hem of my sleeve. The thought of Four, hovering above me, and those deep blue eyes staring at me, is almost too much. His big warm hands comforting me sends a dizzy spell through my head. A small hot spark hits the pit of my stomach and makes me jump.

This gets Christina's attention. "Everything okay there?" My face meets hers and she smirks. "You look at Four that way, and he won't be able to stop himself from jumping you."

A moan has bubbled itself up through my throat and threatens to fall from my mouth if I answer her, so I just nod helplessly.

Christina seems to get the hint and changes the subject by looking at the clock. "We should go soon. The Pit is opening in an hour."

I nod once more. "Okay." I swallow thickly.

"Tris." She stops me from getting up. "I told Will."

My being becomes serious once more. "You told him about leaving?"

She nods, biting her lip. I worry she's about to cry, but she smiles. "He told me he would buy me on New Year's Eve, and he would follow me to our new location. He told me he doesn't want to lose me ever again."

"Oh Chris, that's great." A genuine smile replaces my concern.

"And the best part, was that he didn't judge me at all for being in the business. He said a close friend of his does something similar, and if I want his help getting out, he'd be more than happy to help."

A weight drops in my stomach. _A friend?_ Will didn't tell her, that he's a dancer too?

I keep the smile on my face, but Christina senses the change.

"Don't worry Tris, I'm sure Four will understand too. You just need to trust him. And you've already taken that first step by opening yourself up to him."

_That's not what I'm worried about._ "Yeah, I guess." I say casually. It's going to break her heart when she finds out he lied to her. Knowing now how strongly Christina feels for Will, she will probably forgive him and move on. But holy shit, when Chris is in a war path, duck for cover and move across the planet.

We eventually get off the couch and go to put on our uniforms for work.

As we leave the apartment and walk down the snow covered wooden steps, Christina suddenly tugs on her ear – our signal for that feeling we get when we think someone is watching us, or that something is wrong. I look around casually, and spot a black car with unmarked plates just down the street. Neither of us moves towards the car or acknowledges it. We're not supposed to. It's one of Max's. But why would he have his people following us, we haven't done anything wrong recently. Unless something else happened that we don't know about yet. I'll have to ask the others when we get to the Pit.

Christina drives, and I fiddle with the radio. Neither of us says anything as the black car follows us with every turn. It doesn't park in the lot with us at the Pit. There's already two black cars here.

Both Chris and I share a look. Marlene is just getting out of her cherry red car when we do, and she narrows her eyebrows. Her mouth opens like she wants to ask, but she closes it before Chris or I can tell her to. She's only been here a few weeks, and she's already mastered the "don't ask in public" rule.

We pile inside to see Shauna already running tables. Lynn isn't here on account of having a final. Myra is here too, in her new uniform. She trains today for the Pit, and tonight will be her first dance. Her face is white but she's humming some tune I don't recognize and it seems to keep her calm.

"Did you guys have escorts to work today too?" I ask as we all gather in the locker room.

Shauna nods. She's looking a little white herself. Or maybe green.

Myra has her arms wrapped around her chest. "I take it, this isn't the normal behavior?"

"I'm new and even I know something's not right." Marlene says as she ties her apron around her waist.

Christina pales slightly. "You don't think they found out do you? About us l-e-a-v-i-n-g?"

"They can spell Chris." I say rolling my eyes.

She hits my arm. "I'm just being cautious in case they set up cameras in here that we don't know about."

"Well I don't know what the situation is, but there are six black coats sitting in the guard's box." Shauna says. "They didn't want anything to eat. They just stare."

"Do we know them?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I've never seen any of these guys before. And they don't, look, nice."

"No need for dramatic pauses." Matthew says startling all of us. He chuckles, but it's forced. "I'm sure it's just extra precaution for one thing or another. This wouldn't be the first time Max was paranoid."

Suddenly a thought hits me. That one guard from The Nook when I was with Caleb, he wore all black. Is it an Erudite thing? I never did get to ask Cara.

"We should get to work." Marlene says as the door chimes signaling customers entering.

Everyone nods in agreement. "Myra," I call to her. She looks up, alert and ready. "You're shadowing with me."

Lynn joins us shortly after we begin and gives us a look about the men. She's about to make some snarky comment but Shauna shuts her up. Lynn accuses her of trying to be Mom and storms off for a few minutes.

The whole service goes by fairly smooth after that. The only real alarm is the black coats still sitting in the corner. One of them looks almost exactly like the one I saw in the Nook, but I can't be too sure. They all look so similar, it's almost like a horror movie. Customers look a little put off too, and I hope this puts a damper on revenue today so that Eric and Max won't put so many creepy guys in here next time.

At the end of service, we're locking up getting ready to head to Dauntless when the men get up too.

Shauna seems to be the only one getting really pissed off. When the men move towards us, she puts herself in a defensive stance, directly between them and us. As though she were shielding us.

"Who are you?!" She demands.

The one out in front puts up a hand. "We're here under orders. We're your protection."

"Protection? From what?" Marlene asks.

"From yourselves."

No one moves a muscle. They know. They must know.

"All will be explained once we escort you safely to Dauntless. Eric will provide answers."

"They know." Christina whispers to me once we go to the back and grab our belongings.

I can only nod. But something still feels off. They would have man handled us and brought us into Max's office wouldn't they? This is much calmer. Like they're trying to make us feel safe. Protect us from ourselves? Self-harm?

The drive over to Dauntless feels like we're driving around the city three times during rush hour. It's long, and the car is filled with anxiety.

When we arrive, the black coats escort us inside. Lauren even gives them a weird look as they wait for all of us to enter.

Al is practically pacing backstage, his clipboard in hand. And Tori, who is already here, is sitting at her station giving him a glare in annoyance.

"Everything okay there big boy?" Lynn snarks as she walks by him.

His head snaps up as his eyes search our faces. Quickly, they land on mine. And he looks relieved.

I don't really feel like talking to Al, but I'm trying to be more open, and I guess I'm trying to me nicer. "Al, what's wrong?" Plus I'm incredibly curious to see what happened to cause the black coats.

"Something happened Tris, I was—I was so worried." His arms wrap around me suddenly and he pulls me into a hug, one that I don't return because my arms are squished. I can see Christina giving me an odd look and I just return it. I have no idea what warranted this.

I pat his arm. "What happened?"

He releases me, gives me a smile, and keeps his hands on my shoulders. He smells like sage and lemongrass. It's comforting, but too calming, too gentle.

"I'm not supposed to say out loud. But no one's in trouble. Eric will tell you. Oh Tris I'm so happy you're here." His smile is brilliant.

It makes me a bit uncomfortable, but I make an effort to smile back. "Yeah, me too?"

Al laughs. Then brings me in for another hug.

Eric walks out at that point, I give him a weird look. _What made Al so touchy-clingy?_

"Al! Let go of Raven please." His voice is harsh, and dark, but there might be a hint of sadness in it.

Al lets go. "I'll see you later Tris." He smiles once more, then heads for the stairs to the rafters.

"Seems you have an admirer." Marlene hums in my ear. I swat her shoulder like a fly and she laughs. The other girls smile, especially Myra, who I think is smiling out of nerves more than anything.

"Listen up ladies, the extra protection today has been for your own good. They've been reporting to me your activities and your moods from the day. This was all precautionary. You see, one of our dancers killed herself last night." I swear I see him smile.

Everyone goes quiet, even Peter who has made his way off to the side looks a little shaken.

"She was a Dauntless dancer like you, but she was in group B. You probably never met her. You would have known her as Luna. She wasn't much of a dancer, but she was one of you. The protection detail was just to make sure no one else was planning on offing themselves without my permission."

Christina balks. "So the guys in black coats were to make sure we weren't planning a mass suicide?"

"Pretty much." He nods.

"How cheery." Marlene mumbles.

"But we won't let this affect your performances tonight, will we?" Eric eyes each and every one of us. "And now, in Luna's name," he waves over to the side. "Peter."

Peter walks out in front of us, with a bottle of scotch. My least favorite form of alcohol. "One swing each. A toast to our fallen member."

Eric nods, picking up his own glass already filled with the amber liquid. "She was a terrible dancer, but she was brave for venturing into the unknown."

The bottle of scotch moves down the line. Tori, who looks pleased with its presence. Lynn who holds back a grimace. Christina who actually enjoys scotch. Shauna refuses, but doesn't vocalize it. She brings the bottle to her lips, but she doesn't take any. No one else but Lynn seems to notice. Then it goes to Myra, who takes the biggest gulp of all, coughing harshly after. Marlene who takes a sip. Then finally to me. I let the golden liquid into my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut. I'm not worried about showing everyone else my distaste for the burning drink. Most of the girls know I prefer vodka, and rum filled fruity drinks.

My nostrils flare of their own accord and my cheeks and chest are on fire. It feels like I haven't taken a breath of fresh air in days.

I hand the drink back to Peter, and he takes a swing of his own, before handing the bottle back to Eric. Eric then refills his glass, and takes it all in. "Alright," his voice is dry and cracks. "Back to work."

Before I can turn, Eric motions for me to follow him. I do.

We go into his office, he shuts the door, and hands me the needle. All I can do is glare at him, but I take it willingly, and press the needle into my thigh. I've gotten better with needles throughout these experiments, but that doesn't mean I like them.

There's no theme tonight, no special occurrence or party coming in. It's just a basic Tuesday night at Dauntless.

Our outfits are simple. A shiny black bra two sizes too small, a few even have glitter on them. I'm fortunate enough to escape that. Our bottoms are tight black underwear with our personal initials in a bright color. The letter R is stitched on mine in dark blue. The whole outfit is made of a leathery material. Fishnet tights come after, and topped off with my favorite stomping black boots.

I take a look in the full length mirror in our dressing area, and do a turn for myself. I do surprisingly look good, but I also look like I starve myself, and a hooker.

At my station I slide my wig into place and start to pile on my makeup, topping off with bright orange-red lips tonight.

Peter walks through, his _Eric_ type voice in place. "Private dances tonight: Bambi and Paris duo dance in room 2 at 11PM. Candy room 5 at 11PM. Luscious and Cherry" Lynn looks excited and I smirk. "room 4 at midnight. Raven room 2 at midnight. Bambi room 1 at 1:30AM. Glimmer, first private dance." Everyone looks over to Myra. "Room 3 at 2AM."

Myra nods nervously as she fidgets with her outfit. A bright yellow G stitched on the front of her underwear, no doubt she'll get some grief for that tonight.

"First dance, Candy and Luscious center stage. Raven on the rope, Cherry in the tank."

Marlene grimaces.

We all split up to our assigned locations, but Christina comes up to me before she heads for center stage. "So why exactly were you and Al so close?"

"Trust me, I have no idea. He acted like he thought I was the one who died."

She nods. "Maybe he just knew one dancer died, but didn't know which one?"

"That sounds like something Eric would pull. Tell someone one of their friends are dead but don't specify which one."

"Still, he reacted so badly, and was overjoyed when you walked in. He probably has a crush on you." She smirks and nudges my shoulders.

"Let's not let it get to that." I mutter under my breath. Just then I hear my name and look up, Christina does too. Al is standing in the rafters, smiling and waving to me. I force a smile and wave back.

"Good luck." Christina waves at him too and says quietly to me as she walks towards the stage.

I want to glare at her, but Al is still staring at me.

I heave a sigh and walk towards the ladder up to the rope swing.

The crowd is at a usual, cheering and screaming. Al mixes up the music a bit tonight and creates new jams and beats. It's good. He adds more bass for me like I knew he would, because the bass is my favorite.

The clients who've booked me for a private dance are three couples, and by the looks of it, married couples. But when I start to dance to the music, they begin to dance with each other. They switch partners, and begin some kind of six person make-out session. Wives on wives, husbands on husbands, wives on husbands of other wives. Must be some kind of swing group. Normally during this kind of thing I'd be really turned off and creeped out. Yet, one of the couples in the corner catches my attention. It's the man on woman couple who aren't married to each other, and they look at each other like they're the only two in the room.

He strokes her thigh. His other hand caressing her cheek. She moans on the floor and writhes under his touch. There's heat in the room, and sweat lines his brow as he concentrates.

My limbs are hot and heavy. My own back arches on it's own accord. In my mind I can see Four's eyes hovering over me, making me fall apart.

And

I

Can't

Think.

My body focuses on it's own needs but my mind focuses on dancing. It's more sensual than I've ever been. This only seems to add to the pleasure in the room I'm providing for the couples. And when the hour is up, I find I'm disappointed.

Oh sure I made plenty of tips, nothing to worry about there. But I'm dangling on the edge of a euphoria and I can't make myself fall over it.

The couples get up and leave thanking me for such a wonderful time.

I walk back out slowly, still craving that friction. I bit my lip and smile.

The clock on the wall says it's just a little after one in the morning, so it's a free period for us girls. Meaning we can do whatever we want. I want the stage. I want people to see me enjoy myself for once.

I whistle at Al up above and point to the stage. He looks shocked when he sees me, and his cheeks redden, but he nods. The music starts as a bass, and it's building.

I close my eyes when I walk across the stage. Eyes are on me, and I like it. When I'm in the middle of my solo stage dance Al switches to a slower grinding song rather than speeds up the intensity. I can build the pressure this way even better.

I think I've heard people refer to it as trap music, except there's no vocals here. We never do vocals really. On special occasions we sometimes act out the words to a song and it's almost always guaranteed to be sexual or that nature.

My stomach is coiling and hot, and my knees are shaking, but I don't let that show. I move in fluid and graceful steps, while getting lower, and tenser, ready to spring. The pole is my friend, but tonight, the audience is here for my pleasure. They don't shout and holler like normal. They moan and groan with me.

My eyes, which I'm sure are beyond dilated scan the crowd as my hands begin to feel myself up. It feels so good I could cry.

A woman catches my eye in the crowd. She's staring at me, she's older, and I don't recognize her. I can't see too well since all the spotlights are on me, but she's almost smirking at me.

It doesn't matter to me really. I'll dance for men and women. But there's something off putting about her.

Suddenly she nods her head to the left, and I follow her motion just as I collapse for the end of the song. I fall to the stage in defeat of whatever force I was fighting against. The crowd goes nuts. I take their money and pick my head up to see what exactly the woman was nodding at, but the woman is gone, and there's nothing to her left.

I shrug it off, still not getting my release and take a bow on stage before turning to head into the crowd.

I'm walking casually as the music changes once more, luring men in with my smile and caressing their cheeks like the vixen I am.

When I reach the spot where the woman was looking, all I find is a gray ribbon on the ground. I reach over and pick it up, examining it. If I didn't know any better I would say it was one of the ribbons that Eric attaches to a dancer's frame when they're transferring factions.

I stand up straight, and when I pick my eyes up, my body goes cold.

"No, no no no…." My mouth mumbles so quiet, it's the only word to fall from me as he stares at me. His eyes hard, his mouth in a firm line, but I know he's upset. Beyond upset, he's fuming. His fists are clenched at his sides as his eyes tear me limb from limb.

I want to run towards him and run away at the same time. I can't move. I can't…

"Four—" My voice breaks, giving me away.

He shudders at the name and takes one step closer. I've seen a look like he's giving me before. It's the look a man gives someone when he wants to hit them. It scares me, and I can feel a thickness in my throat building. The warm glowing feeling that resided in my chest just moments ago, now feels as though it's been carved hallow by a spoon. My heart stops, then starts slowly, before stopping again.

Four's look is pained, and hurt, and angry, and confused, and it's so much worse than I thought it'd be. He wasn't supposed to find out _this_ way, not by watching me. I was supposed to tell him in private. I was supposed to be honest with him.

Then he turns and walks away. I follow him. His strides are longer and faster. Soon I'm running through the crowds. I see him pick up an empty bottle off some drunken man's table and slam it against the wall. The music's too loud for anyone to notice.

My eyes water, and he looks at me once more, before turning and stalking out the door.

I can't hear anything. Soon I'm kneeling on the floor, just staring at the door as my vision blurs with water. Numbness soothes me like a drug, and yanks the life from my heart. I have no anger left. I can't move.

My voice dies on my lips. "Four…"

****And… it finally happened. Four found out! Uhhh not the best way Tris was hoping for. Hope you liked!**

**Please Review!****


	25. Chapter 25

****And now to reveal our finalists of Characters for Chapter 26! For female characters we have Lily by 4roses, Olivia Anise Snow (Martinez) by Booknrd187, Amalia by EmoFangirlEaton, Bianca Swartz by Dorian Havilliard, and Zero Reyes by MariGold18. For male characters we have Jamie Roy Stevens by Soccerpup17, and Trevor Cross by Dorian Havilliard. Thanks again to everyone who submitted a character, and stay tuned for the reveal of who won in the Chapter 26 author note!**

**Also, just as a side-side author's note: if anyone is interested in some other authors' fanfiction, I'll recommend my favorites at the end of this chapter!**

**A few of you requested over PM's and reviews, that I do the previous chapter in Four's POV. Unfortunately, that was not in my plan, because something happens with Four while Tris is dancing. This is a secret for now, but will be explained in later chapters. Maybe when I'm further down the storyline I'll add in his POV for Chapter 24 as a bonus, but not right now.**

**To address some reviewers:**

**To the few who were confused as to why Four reacted the way he did, this chapter will help explain that. Plus, Tris asked him to come on Saturday, not Tuesday like he did. He caught her off guard.**

**To the few who have asked for some Eris to take place - I'm sorry, but this is a FourTris fanfic. While I do consider Eris to be a guilty pleasure of mine, this story is not one of them. Sorry!**

**Everyone – I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update, but like I have always said, I cannot guarantee any regular updating schedule. I'm sorry but that's the way it is.**

**PS – This is a bit of a filler chapter (probably why it took so long to crank out), but has a reveal towards the end of who the mystery woman is.****

**Tris POV – Thursday, December 11****th**

Everything is a blur now. It passes slowly, and fast, and sometimes backwards. Christina found me on the Dauntless floor, mumbling and staring into nothing. I couldn't will myself to move. Everything was numb, and still is. I haven't eaten much of anything since then.

Christina and Marlene managed to pick me up and take me discretely to the side entrance of backstage. They laid me out on the floor trying to get me to respond, but I couldn't form words. I couldn't form a single thought except for the one still running through my head. _Why was Four there on Tuesday when I told him to come on Saturday? _Which was followed later by:_ Why did he have to see me enjoy myself? Why did I enjoy myself?_

I had a plan. I would have been prepared. Christina managed to figure out what had happened the next day after I woke up screaming from the light sleep I already had. She asked me slow, simple questions while making me drink water, and trying for force crackers down my throat. I ended up throwing the whole thing up shortly after.

I told her that Four was supposed to come on Saturday. While he would be distracted by the other dancers, I would slip a note onto the table he chose. Telling him to look for the dancer named Raven. But I crossed that idea off when I realized what a shock that might be, so I revised it. Then I thought I would just go up to him in person on the floor but ruled that out and changed strategy as soon as the black coats surrounded us earlier that day. I went back to the leaving a note idea, that would tell him to meet me in the Dauntless parking lot at 3:30 Sunday morning after my shift. I would have taken off Raven's personality by then. He wouldn't have to see me dance, at least knowingly. He would get to hear me explain it while I'm still me. We would get into his car, and he would listen to me. He would probably get mad at me, but he would be able to hear me out.

Now, everything is different. Everything feels gray. No ups or downs, no black and whites. It just, is.

Christina gave the short version to the girls at the Pit the next day, yesterday, while I moved like the dead. Emotionless, stone walling everyone. Even Edward who came in for five minutes to see who the new girl was. Normally I would be on edge and seconds away from smashing a glass onto his head. But I did nothing. He got angry at my lack of reaction, and pushed me into the register. Everyone looked up, and Matthew yelled for him to get out. One of the black coats got up as well, making sure he left. Everyone asked if I was okay. I nodded my head, a bruise forming on my back from hitting the corner of the old machine. I didn't cry, I didn't frown, I didn't complain.

I even asked Christina if we could stop somewhere on our way home last night after work. She said yes without questioning me, but she looked concerned. She let me drive. It's been so long since I've driven. Driving itself makes me anxious, only because I think about my parents and that this was the last thing they ever did.

I drove Christina's car up to the frozen over lookout. I walked down the pathway to the Chasm. Just hoping he was there. He wasn't. It looked untouched since the last time we were here. I looked down at the water, just considering the possibility, before turning back and allowing Christina to drive me home. No doubt she told everyone where we went.

I know they're worried. I don't care anymore.

For the last two nights, rather than sleep, I've just stared at my phone. Waiting for an email, a text, a call. Anything. I've debated using one of my wishes. He'd have to listen. Unless this voids our agreement. I need to explain. But he needs to cool down. He needs to reach out to me. But I don't want to wait. The longer I wait, the more numb and carved out I feel.

This is why I never should have fallen for someone. It was all a mistake.

* * *

Myra drops a platter of empty plates, sending them scattering across the floor. A few of them break and crack. Everyone looks down at her. Marlene and Christina help her pick them up. David looks annoyed.

Myra has been learning the ropes for the last couple days now. I didn't realize what a slow learner she was. Marlene was quick to pick up on everything around us and quick to interact with customers and judge what kind of server – or dancer – they needed. Myra not so much. I sympathize with her for the adjustment, but she needs to get her act together if she wants to make it.

No one else seems to show the same annoyance as David and I. I don't vocalize it, or show it in my face, but it's there. Radiating off of my skin.

She's fidgety and constantly looking over her shoulder now. Myra will take some time to settle into this job if we don't leave like we planned. I'm beginning to doubt the whole idea will work. But the other girls seem invested. We still need to tell Myra about our plan to leave, and I hope it's not me who has to explain it to her.

That's not the only problem now. Shauna told Zeke about our plan after work on Tuesday night. After Christina and I drove to the Chasm. Apparently, Shauna trusts Zeke enough not to spill to anyone, but Zeke was furious. Shauna grew a backbone though and told him off, saying that it wasn't any different than Uriah's job. He hasn't agreed to buy her on New Year's Eve, but he didn't say no either. I'm not sure yet if Zeke has figured out that the rest of us work for the same employer or not. He seems like a smart guy, but a bit oblivious.

And we're running out of time.

About halfway through dinner service, the snow outside begins to pick up once more. There's a symphony of screeching tires and blaring car horns outside. The only small relief is when the small bell on our front door rings. It's a soft sound, but its echo seems to magnify the more it rings.

One of the last people I expect to walk in to the sound of the bell, is Caleb. Yet, there he stands, wet from melting snow, and currently shaking out his over-sized blue trench coat. Weirder yet, he's wearing glasses. Caleb had perfect vision when we were kids. What could possibly be different now? He rings out his gray scarf as Lynn walks up to him. He smiles kindly at her, the way he always smiled at everyone. Such a _polite young man_, it's the praise our parents would get every time someone wanted to talk about Caleb. Dad would beam. Mom would smile. Was I polite enough as a child?

Caleb sits down in one of the booths by the corner, almost right across from the black coats. He looks at the menu thoughtfully, and then checks his watch.

Thankfully, he's in Christina's section tonight, so I won't have to deal with him. But when he sees her, he'll know I work here too.

Christina seems to sense my disgust through my stonewall expression, and walks over to him as though she were walking on glass. They talk for a moment, before she comes back to get him some water. She grabs two glasses.

"Is he on a date?" Christina asks me as she fills the glasses with ice.

I shrug. "Wouldn't know."

"He's your brother."

"Who blames me for our parents' death." I say giving her a look.

Marlene stops short when she hears me talk. "What, wait, what?"

I look over at her. She stands with a hand on her hip, giving me a motherly look as to say _explain yourself young lady._ I have to keep from snorting.

"Long story." I say staring right back at her. "But he's my brother, and we don't talk."

"Then why'd he come here?" She asks as Christina brings him the two glasses.

"Maybe he was hungry." I roll my eyes and walk back into the kitchen. "Matt," my voice as monotone as ever. "Are my chicken strips done yet?"

He slides the basket of breaded fried chicken to me, fries on the side. "You look like Hell." He says in what I assume is a joking manner.

I don't smile. "Yup."

He frowns.

I take the food, and carry it out to the hungry four year old in the booth by the entrance. He's already sucked down two milkshakes and is shaking in his seat. The babysitter is looking around nervously, and almost in a panic as she tries to control him.

Thankfully Shauna walks over as I walk away. She's always been the best with kids, now more than ever it seems. The babysitter leaves a tip for her, and not for me.

Much to my surprise, when I return to the floor, Susan Black is sitting across the table from my brother. They're both smiling. Susan looks to be asking questions about Caleb, and he's more than happy to answer.

Susan is in the dressiest outfit I've ever seen her wear. And her hair is down. It's much longer than I originally thought, almost reaching her gut in long flowy dirty blonde waves. Her blouse is puffy and black. A silver necklace around her neck, and a charm bracelet on her wrist. She's wearing dark blue jeans, but they have to be skin tight. And her boots have heels, just two inches, but still! She's much prettier than I've ever given her credit for.

"Beatrice!" Susan waves at me, and I realize I've been staring. Caleb hadn't noticed thankfully, but he turns around and his eyes widen for a fraction of a second.

I walk over to them slowly, not entirely sure what to expect.

"Beatrice it's good to see you." She smiles brilliantly. It's natural for her.

I make an effort to smile for Susan, but not for Caleb.

She stands and embraces me when I reach their table. I wrap my arms around her as she squeezes. Something inside me bends to her arms around me, and my eyes suddenly feel heavy with moisture. I can't cry here. I shut them quickly and hold her tight. Susan flinches at the change in my hold, but she says nothing. Her arms soften as she holds me close to her. Of course she knows just what to do.

Caleb doesn't seem to notice any difference. When we separate, Susan is still smiling. My head hangs down slightly like an ashamed child.

"It's good to see you," I manage to say without my voice cracking.

Susan knows something is up, but she doesn't ask. I'm thankful for it.

Caleb on the other hand dives right into a conversation with me. Asking how I'm doing. Apologizing for our last meeting and how it ended. Suddenly I wonder what happened to Cara. Last I saw, he was drooling after her. And Caleb doesn't strike me as the polygamist type. Knowing how even as kids, he idolized our Dad and Dad's religion. Mom went along with it, but she was warier about committing to it. I've been like her in religious views for as long as I can remember.

"Do you have time to join us?" Susan asks before anyone can say anything about my unusual silence.

"I—"

"Sure she does." Christina comes up from behind me. "She was about to go on break anyway."

I don't glare at Christina as I normally would in this situation. My face is still the same stone as before. I'm all 'glared out'. Christina notices my lack of reaction and only pushes me further towards them.

Susan smiles as she sits down beside me. Caleb is smiling too, but it's a tight smile. There's a small bit of genuine happiness in his face, and it's not directed at me.

"How have your finals been Tris?" Susan asks using my shortened name, the one I never thought she'd use. Susan is as formal as people come. I must be quite the exception today.

I shrug my shoulders at her question.

Caleb is on me in an instant. "Beatrice you should answer people with your words, don't be so childish."

"Caleb it's fine," Susan says coming to my rescue. She uses the motherly tone I'm used to hearing directed at me whenever the topic of my after-hours job comes up. She seems surprisingly calm knowing that she's surrounded by a bunch of night-dancers. "Tris and I have talked on the bus almost every day these last few years. I understand her face better than anyone."

Not true not true not true. My head almost whips up at Susan, and how easily she just lied. _Susan lied._ Hell must have frozen over. We haven't talked most days on the bus, she doesn't understand my face. Susan lied. And she did it well too. I have never seen this side of her.

She smiles easily once more. "So are you happy finals are almost over?"

"Yeah." My voice carrying little to no emotion. It visibly hurts her, but she doesn't push anything too far. She never has.

"Keep your GPA up and you'll find a good job someday," Caleb says before drinking his water. I have never been like Caleb; Captain of multiple clubs all throughout school, Associated Student Body President, and a straight A student. I joined one or two clubs, and was a B average most of the time.

"Caleb," Susan begins, "Sometimes there are more important things out there in life besides a job and good grades."

Caleb doesn't back talk Susan. "You're right." Then he turns to me. "Perhaps drinking and partying are just what you do now."

"Caleb!" Susan yells suddenly.

I can feel my fists clench, but die soon after. I'm still too numb. My voice too dead.

Susan on the other hand, is near fuming. I had no idea she was _that_ protective of me. "That was uncalled for."

Caleb almost sneers. "She calls me for help, wasted as ever, then tells me nothing is wrong." Susan glares at Caleb for acting out. She doesn't look at me. He must have already told her this. "How can that be okay? How does she expect me to trust her when she can't even be honest with me?"

"Maybe I don't want your trust." My own voice surprises me as it springs to life. "Let's be honest Caleb, you will never trust me again. No matter what I say."

"Beatrice I still care for you—"

I fold my arms across my chest. "I'm sure you do, just as I still care for you. You're my brother. That being said, I don't have any desire to be around you anymore. I don't need your trust, I don't need your protection, and I don't need you." I stand suddenly and stalk back to the kitchen.

Christina passes me bringing food to another table. "That bad?"

My eyes narrow as I look back at the table. I can't hear them, but it looks like Susan is scolding Caleb, but he is arguing back. I wonder if she knows about Cara. How crushed she would be that he was gazing after another girl.

Susan and Caleb eat their meal in silence for the most part, but after another selection of choice words, Susan all but stomps out.

Caleb walks up to the counter to pay, and sits at the bar. I don't acknowledge him.

Naturally when we think everything has quieted down, Zeke comes storming in. He's not his usual happy cake-loving self. He's stable, but he's fuming. He sits down next to Caleb, who also gives him a funny look.

Zeke sits with his hands folded tightly in front of him on the counter. He doesn't look at any of us. Shauna is currently in back on her break. For one reason or another, I find Zeke easier to approach than Caleb. But before I can, Marlene passes by him with a plate of food. She doesn't see him, but he sees her.

"Marlene?!" His voice high and cracking.

Her body jolts a bit, but she calmly manages to set the food down at her customer's table. She then turns to face him, her expression swaying between anxiety and fright.

"Hi Zeke." He stares at her, and before he can accuse her of anything, she begs "Please don't tell Uri. He needs to hear it from me."

Zeke's face is flushed, and frozen. He stares after her as she leaves back into the kitchen. Shortly after receiving a few odd glances from other customers, Zeke recovers and manages to make his way over to the counter, to me.

"Would you like anything Zeke?"

His eyes snap up to me. "You. You're like her."

"No shit brainless." I mumble, but he heard it.

"Four doesn't know."

I don't say anything in response. In a way I'm slightly relieved that Four hasn't told anyone else about me, because if he would tell anyone, it would be Zeke. Uriah once described Four as a brooding loner. Hopefully that's the state he's in right now, processing what he saw.

"It was never her intention to hurt you," I say sliding a glass of water over to him.

"It's not even that." Zeke tilts the glass back and forth. I can see Caleb listening to us. "She told me, and I wasn't upset with her. I was upset with myself. Knowing there's nothing I can do to protect her—"

"Yes there is. Do what she asked, that will help her more than you know." Caleb is leaning towards us now. He never was very subtle. "She cares about you Zeke. More so than she'd ever admit to us. She only did this because she felt she had to. And asking for help is one of the hardest things a person can do."

Caleb flinches at my words. Zeke's look softens. "You sure you're not a psych major?"

A small smile manages to flick its way up the corners of my mouth. It's not much, but it gets Zeke to smile.

I take a step forward and lower my voice. "Have you seen Four recently?"

His look darkens slightly. "Not since Tuesday. We were supposed to meet up yesterday since I've finished my finals, but he bailed. I went over to his place, and it was trashed. He wasn't home. He hasn't answered his phone either." Zeke narrows his eyes and leans over the counter a little more. "Do you know anything about his disappearance?"

"Maybe. I saw him on Tuesday and he was angry."

"How angry?"

"Threw a glass bottle at the wall."

"Did he yell, or was he silent?"

I swallow an uncomfortable lump forming in my throat. My cheeks once again feel hot. "Silent."

Zeke lets out a low breath. "Four has always been a bit of an angry guy. Honestly, you're one of the first people besides me" he pops a quick smile. "To ever make him genuinely happy longer than twenty-four hours."

It makes me feel a fraction better.

"But if he was _silently angry_ at you, that's not a good sign," Zeke says as he lowers his head to stare intently at the sparkly pattern dancing across the counter. And just like that, the fraction of good feeling is gone. Replaced by an overwhelming numbness once more.

Caleb stumbles slightly in his seat causing us both to look at him. His face flushes and he mumbles something before walking towards the bathroom.

I look back at Zeke before hearing Matthew yell for help in the back. I turn to walk away. "If you see him Zeke, tell him I'm sorry."

"What'd you do?" He asked, now swishing the water in his cup.

"Showed him the truth, about me."

Zeke's head pops up. "You mean,"

"What Shauna told you. Except I didn't get to tell him about our plans," I say lowering my voice.

"Why not?" He sounds defensive now. I begin to feel a coil in my stomach and just want to leave this place. Myra goes back to help Matthew, so now I have nowhere to go.

"He didn't exactly give me the chance." I continue when it's apparent that I won't be leaving Zeke for the next few moments. "Based on the way Shauna described your reaction, it was pretty similar, except you're vocal." Zeke fidgets in his chair, but doesn't respond. Caleb takes this opportunity to sit back down, leaning towards us. I don't care, so I continue, "Both you and Four reacted without processing. Seems like a stupid form of masculinity, to act before thinking. Respond without looking at the facts." Caleb flinches once more, and his face reddens. Thankfully Zeke doesn't notice. "Would you have reacted the same way to Shauna's news, if you knew she wanted to leave for a while but couldn't, out of fear?"

He looks like a kicked puppy. "How long has she wanted to leave?"

"You should ask her yourself."

"She won't see me. I doubt she'd forgive me with the things I said."

I want to tell Zeke to suck it up and move on, then crawl away in a hole and sleep, or better yet disappear, without any interruptions or thoughts of Four. But the selfless motherly protector in me wouldn't let me. "Zeke," I begin. "Shauna cares for you, a lot. She probably even loves you." His face turns a chocolaty red. "I can't say what way she loves you, but I know that she wouldn't tell you what she did unless she trusted you completely."

This seems to make Zeke feel a little better. "So, every girl here?"

"Yes Zeke. All of us."

"And there's more, fractions?"

"_Factions_. Yes, there's four more groups like ours and one separate one that's not."

"How many are there, because Uriah—"

"Uriah's group is the only male group we know of. The days we work here all night, a different group takes over for us, but they don't work here. We don't know them."

"Zeke?" Shauna's voice cracks. We both look over by the kitchen entrance to see her standing there, just off her break. She looks stunned, but also slightly relieved to see him. Her hand falls to her stomach as she walks over to him before hugging him. A bad feeling resonates in my chest. She's gained a bit of weight, and her cheeks are constantly flushed. I wonder when she'll tell the rest of us. No one else seems to have noticed her changes except for Lynn and me.

He hugs her back without even thinking about it. Then he walks her over to a booth by the windows and they talk quietly.

"What did you fight with Susan about?" I ask Caleb as I wipe down the counter in front of him before refilling his water glass.

"Beatrice you should know better than to pry into my personal business like that."

"You sound like Dad."

"Good. You need some guidance in your life."

My eyes narrow as I look up at him, angrily. "Are planning on going back to New York any time soon?"

He narrows his green eyes right back. "No."

"Caleb I don't need you babying me. I'm an adult you know."

"Physically maybe. Mentally I'm not so sure. Sounds to me like you can't even keep basic relationships with people without angering them."

I slam my fist on the counter. Caleb who would normally back down at this point in an argument, doesn't even flinch. This is a side to him I've never seen, and it scares me. I didn't turn violent often as a child, but every now and then I would fight back, physically. I was so small as a child that I almost always was beat. It wasn't until high school when I realized I was small, but fast. I focused on people's pressure points and used my agility to get by them, or escape them.

With Caleb, it feels like I'm battling a boulder the size of a house. Especially when he gives me Dad's angry face, with Mom's eyes. It causes an uncomfortable churning in my stomach, like I might vomit.

"Whoever that _Four_ was you were talking about with him," He nods over to Zeke, who is now smiling across the table from Shauna. "It sounds like whatever you did to upset him, his reaction was well deserved. You're dangerous Beatrice. Deadly when it comes to human relations. Maybe it would be better if you had succeeded in taking your own life after Mom and Dad were killed."

The air is flushed out of my lungs. My head is light and my temple throbbing. No one knew about that. No one. Not even Christina. And now, everyone in the Pit knows. Everyone looks at me. Everyone gawks. The girls look at me with pity and shock. The customers have stopped eating. There's a ringing in my ears, and my vision begins to spot with black dots. Caleb doesn't budge. All I want to do is run until I can't feel anything anymore. Shauna is standing now and making her way towards me. Christina moves slightly out of the corner of my eye. Even Lynn looks taken back.

Something happens as I continue to stare at Caleb. The shock dissipates. The numbness clears. The pounding in my head turns to a warm simmer. Never in my life have I felt more in control, and more willing to strangle someone.

I relax my shoulders and roll my head on my neck. "Caleb. You have no hold over me anymore. I think you should go."

This takes him by surprise. And what's even more surprising, is he actually stands up to leave. His fists are clenched. Did he want me to fight back? What would be the point?

"This isn't over Beatrice. We'll talk later, about your lifestyle choices, and whoever this Four is. For the time being, I don't want you seeing him."

A small laugh rolls off my tongue. "You can't tell me not to see him. Leave Caleb."

And he does. He walks over to the door, opens it and without a look back, leaves. A weight leaves my shoulders, and the confidence stirs inside me battling against the numb depression at the mention of Four once more.

All the girls and Matthew look at me strangely as I walk past into the locker room. Christina is the only one who pursues me.

"What the hell Tris?!"

"Keep your voice down."

"You tried to kill yourself? And you expect me to keep my voice down!?"

"Really Christina. It was before we met. It was a failed attempt. That was my secret to keep."

"I thought we didn't have any secrets." She's fuming, and she even stomps her foot. I know I shouldn't, but I find it funny.

"You don't tell me the details of you and your uncle," Her face turns white with disgust because she knows I'm right. "Because that's your secret. This was mine, and now I have nothing to hide."

"Tris, you always have something to hide."

She leaves me alone after that. The other girls talk a bit asking if he was an old boyfriend or childhood friend. But I hear Christina tell them that he's my brother. Shauna mentions that she suggested to Zeke when they were trying to figure out what Caleb was to me, that she also thought he was an ex-boyfriend of sorts, and Zeke left with that knowledge. I only allow myself a moment to wonder if Zeke will tell Four when he sees him. Maybe that would be a good slap in the face for him.

Dauntless isn't very crowded tonight, and Eric is gone which is odd. Peter gives me my shot, placing a hand on my thigh as he does. I roll my eyes and let him.

Myra is scheduled for a Private Dance with Edward tonight. She sees his name on the reservations and goes into a full on panic attack. As it turns out, Edward is Myra's ex-boyfriend whose name was tattooed on her body when she was sixteen. He's the same Edward she told me about, who had a shrine for women who dress like we do. It makes sense, and I mentally kick myself for not piecing it together earlier. He found out about her, that's the only reason he would have scheduled her. Normally when he wants a private lap dance it's with me, and sometimes with Tori when he wants someone older.

She begins to cry, and dry heave, begging one of us to take her place. Peter just about smacks her across the face telling her to shape up. Christina offered to take her place, and to my surprise, so did Marlene. Peter glared at both of them and told us all to go to our positions for our next number. Myra would do the dance.

Myra went in, and came out with a bruise on her neck, and tear tracks in her cheeks. Peter didn't say anything except give Edward a warning not to mark her up next time. Edward handed him a $20 dollar bill and smiled.

I'm sent to the tank tonight, and as I feel the water raining down on me, almost suffocating me, I feel oddly at peace. Just control my breathing and move with the water, pretending they're waves. This is supposed to make us panic, make us lose control. But I don't. I move with it. This gains both positive and negative reactions from the crowd; some like my movements, and others are disappointed the water isn't choking me.

As the night comes to a close, I glance at the crowd once more. I didn't bring in as much money tonight – Lynn was surprisingly popular with the customers and had three private dances back to back at 11PM.

That same woman I saw before seeing Four on Tuesday stands at the back near the bar. She wears simple clothing, and she keeps looking in my direction, but she can't see me – I'm covered by the backstage darkness. She's older like I originally saw. Slight wrinkles on her face, and a consistent scowl that actually reminds me of Four. Her hair is a lighter brown, mousy with hints of gray. I can't tell what her eye color is from here, but it's something light colored. She wears more makeup than someone her age normally would, but its theatrical almost, practiced, calculated. Much like the makeup us dancers wear.

She turns to leave after not finding what she was looking for. My curiosity gets the better of me. I walk down the back hallway reserved for the staff and stand at the balcony directly above her. She slides her coat on and pulls out her phone.

Whoever it is doesn't answer until the last moment.

"It's me." Her voice is strong. "He wasn't here tonight." She pauses. "I'll check again tomorrow."

She hangs up after the one she called says something else in her ear. Then dials one more number, this time her face and voice are softer. She walks out the door as whoever she was calling seems to have sent her to voicemail.

"Please pick up. Tobias, we need to talk."

****Please review! Hope you liked, and I hope it cleared up a bit of the confusion from the last chapter with Tris wanting to meet with Four at Dauntless.**

**Now to recommend two of my favorite Divergent FanFiction writers and their stories:**

**For FourTris lovers, visit moonshine356 and read their trilogy of FourTris stories, starting with **_**A Different Divergent. **_**Follow Tris and Four through their lives in Dauntless if the war never happened. The stories are ridiculously long, and the author gives regular updates! Highly recommend!**

**For Eris lovers, visit Feigninginterest and read any of their stories! This author has six fabulous Eris stories with different settings! This author also has a lot of Harry Potter fanfics specifically Dramione and Scose (Scorpious and Rose – I don't know what their official couple name is. Could even be Rorpious LOL).**

**Just as a side note, I am not doing this with their knowledge, nor do I gain anything by promoting their stories. I'm doing this only because I love the stories they've created.****


	26. Chapter 26

****We are going to have some fun with this AMAZINGLY LONG chapter! This is actually the longest chapter I've ever written for FanFiction, and I felt I owed you guys a little something extra for the long wait. I could have easily split this chapter into two, but I decided against it. **

**And actually, this chapter inspiration was NOT my idea. I had a reviewer PM me back in the summer of 2015, asking if I was planning on doing this already, and to my dismay, I hadn't thought of it! But now, it has been worked in! I can't say what it is now because that would give it away, but I will give credit where it's due. The reviewer who gave me the idea for this chapter was: GoldenShadow401! Thanks GoldenShadow401!**

**Special update on the entries for supporting characters. I have selected 2 winners, and you guys made it absolutely impossible not to use more than just 2. So, I have decided that the finalist character entries who did not win, will make a very short cameo in a later chapter (like 34 or so).**

**And onto our winners…. Congratulations to… *pause for dramatic effect***

**4roses's Lily (dancer name = Sapphire), and Dorian Havillard's Trevor Cross (dancer name = Slade)!**

**Honestly, you guys made it so hard to narrow down to two characters, but I loved both of these characters and felt they would fit so well into the story! So again congratulations, and thank you all for the entries. It was so much fun to do!**

**Trigger warning in this chapter for tid bits of PTSD, and recalling a suicide attempt. Also, I don't have any experience with swallowing pills in a suicide attempt, and have no idea how the person would feel, so this is my version of it. It may not be statistically or anatomically correct in response, but this is fiction.**

**Also, if anyone feels like this chapter should be labeled M rather than T, please let me know! I personally feel it's a high T chapter, but if anyone has concerns and thinks it should be rated M, I will make quick work of a solution. Thanks and enjoy!****

**TRIS POV – Friday, December 12****th**

Christina has been uncharacteristically silent since yesterday when she found out about my past, and failed, suicide attempt. To be perfectly honest, I had even forgotten about it myself. It was a dramatic, heat of the moment decision – my parents were just killed, the police didn't believe that I heard someone in the house, Caleb refused to talk to me… I was completely alone. I'd grabbed some pills from my parents medicine cabinet, not caring what they were and began swallowing. More and more filled my stomach, until a numb warmth spread throughout my body. It felt nice, almost inviting. I laid down in their bathtub and closed my eyelids. There was an occasional squeezing feeling in my stomach, lungs and my heart jolted once or twice. But then I could see my parents' faces. They were disappointed in me, but I didn't care because they were with me again. Sometime in the process of my hallucinating, Caleb found me and called 911. He shoved his finger down my throat, and I vomited all over the tub, and myself before finally passing out. I was in the hospital for a week for bedrest, and another week for suicide watch in the psych unit. Caleb still didn't talk to me, and left for school a couple of weeks later.

It was around that same time that Eric found me wandering around one of the old abandoned buildings that looks over the pier. There was a paintball game going on. I wished I could join them, but I couldn't get my feet to move. Eric was on his way to Dauntless at the time, and seemed nice enough. He offered me a ride, and my mind was still so numb from shock that I willingly followed. We came to Dauntless, he had me watch from the back, and offered me a job. He called me _initiate _which sounded like a cute pet name at first, but then I learned about who Eric really is, and it wasn't so cute anymore. I watched the other dancers – Tori, Shauna, Lynn and Lauren were part of the group at the time. And a few others whose names I can't remember. Maybe I never even learned their names. I liked the power and control that came with being a dancer, so without a second thought I accepted. Eric took me to get my first fitting the next day, Tori was sent to show me around and get a tattoo that night, then Eric took my picture to hang on the wall with the others, and Raven was born.

Because it's Friday of finals week, campus is nearly deserted. Many people have already gone home for winter break. There's even a Santa Clause running up and down the main courtyard outside of one of the three Starbucks on campus. I remember this guy from last year, except last year he was throwing candy-canes at people like they were knives. He got cited by campus police for hitting someone in the face.

I'm grateful not to have to see Thompson anymore. Though in a way, _not _seeing him unnerves me because now I don't know what he's up to.

There's some carolers on the Stairs That Lead to Nothing sculpture in the middle of the PM Lawn (ever so cleverly named, because the surrounding buildings keep the sun off of it during all four seasons until the afternoon). A snowball fight seems to have also broken out on the other side of the lawn. The fight is composed entirely of guys, and all of them are wearing swim shorts with shoes and nothing else. Many people are standing around videotaping them or cheering them on. If I were a normal person, I would stand and enjoy the sight of half-naked men freezing their butts off, and maybe even take a picture hoping to gain some short lived internet fame. Unfortunately, I'm not normal.

Amar's class is one of the only rooms in the building with its lights on. About half the class is already sitting down waiting for the final to start. For many, if not all, it's our last final before the break.

A rock drops in my stomach as I take my seat. Four will be here. He's the TA, he has to be here. Do I want him here? I want to see his reaction, I want to explain myself like I had previously planned. Could I take the rejection if he were to dish it out? Maybe Zeke could talk to him. No, I have to do this myself.

Christina walks in soon after I do, and the rest of the class follows. Christina is still pissed about having a final on Friday, but made her peace with it by dressing up in one of her nicer school outfits. It's a purple scoop neck dress with a built in black skirt. I rolled my eyes when I saw her this morning as she was putting on extra lip gloss, which seems to have worn off now. I'm still not sure how she can stand to wear it in twenty degree weather with half a foot of snow on the ground.

Amar walks in with one minute to spare. He looks flustered, or maybe frustrated; either way, his dark completion is slightly reddened and his jaw is clenched. He doesn't even say "good afternoon" like usual.

He explains the final to us: we'll have two hours to answer four comprehension questions out of six possible. Each answer must be a certain length and reference to at least two quotes from our text, which we _can _use to help us answer the questions.

"Unfortunately your TA will not be joining us today, he has," Amar grits his teeth. "Fallen ill."

There's a collective moan from some of the girls in class, who like Christina, have dressed up a bit fancier today. Christina glances over at me from her seat, a relieved look on her face. I give her a nod, and feel a small weight lift off of me. It's probably better that I don't see him, especially right before a test worth 40% of my final grade.

I get lost in the test then, answering questions quickly and efficiently with appropriate quotes, examples and symbolic descriptions. English class has always been my safe zone, because I never really needed to stress over it. I finish my test after the 80 minute mark, and am the third one to finish. Christina looks frustrated at her paper, but glances at me on my way out of the classroom. I give her a nod, and decide to wait for her in the hallway by the floor to ceiling windows. There's a couple lounge chairs there that have always been full when I walk by. Now they're empty.

The cushion is soft, and I pull my feet in underneath me as I face the world from four stories up. The snow has begun to fall again, in soft small flakes. The entire world looks to be comprised of three colors from up here: black, white and gray. Even the buildings with reflective windows don't hold color. The trees sway slightly in the distance, and everything has this calming sensation. As an English major, I can't help but smirk at the poetic nature of it all. Maybe this is why winter is my favorite season.

The sound of falling books startles me out of my trance and I turn to look behind me. Instantly I'm on my feet in a slightly defensive stance, wide eyed, and breathing hard. In that split second my heart jolted as though electricity were flowing through me, and it hurt.

"Four."

He looks older than I've ever seen him. Pale in the face, shoulders stiff, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days.

I take a step towards him and he takes a step back. This feels so much like the push-pull dance we already played out at Dauntless Tuesday night. I don't want to do this. I can feel bile rising up my throat, and I try to relax my tensed muscles.

"You don't trust me," I say not looking away from him. He averts his eyes, as though it's painful to look at me. I know that feeling all too well from Caleb. My voice is uncharacteristically low. "That's okay I guess, I didn't tell you the whole truth." My eyes narrow, and he still looks away from me. "If you want to grow a pair and talk, you know where to find me, day or _night_." I growl at him and grab my bag to move towards the stairs.

He opens his mouth slightly but still says nothing. Giving me a wide birth when I reach the stairs. It feels like being stabbed in the chest with an ice prick. My breath catches in my throat as the cinnamon invades my senses, and I feel my eyes water.

I'm rushing out of the building then, out onto the slick pavement which has been recently lined with rock salt by the campus facilities. Christina will understand why I didn't wait for her when _he _walks into the classroom. No doubt that's where he was headed.

The bag on my shoulder feels like it weighs a ton, and my head is spinning. So much so, that I bump into someone, nearly knocking them into a poorly made snowman. The woman yells at me to watch where I'm going. I nod and keep going.

"Tris."

My head flies up, my cheeks wet. She's actually the last person I expected right now.

Cara stands before me, tightly wrapped in a blue sweater, with her neat blonde hair falling gracefully around her head. She opens her mouth as though to ask a question, but stops herself. Instead, she digs into her own bag and pulls out a small piece of paper. Then, casually, and clearly not as subtly as she had hoped, bumps into me and slips the paper into my hand.

"Cara?" My voice cracks. She gives me a sympathetic look but then keeps walking.

I look down at the note, quickly getting covered in small snowflakes. On the top in neat handwriting, it tells me not to open the note until I'm off campus, but before I get to The Pit.

When Christina finds me slowly making my way to The Pit, I'm surprised that she doesn't say anything. She has a grim expression on her face, and glances over at me every now and then. Christina is always verbal, but this is something new. It's still communicating, something Christina does best, but in a way I don't have to talk; Christina sighs and links her arm through one of mine, pulling me closer to her tall frame. More tears threaten to fall, and Christina's grip tightens.

Now is about the time when Christina would say that I could use a good distraction. The only problem is that normally whenever she brought this up, it was always a distraction of the human male. And when I refused to be set up, we'd settle for watching Magic Mike and criticizing their moves.

The note.

I stop walking as soon as The Pit is in sight. Christina looks confused, and I nod for her to keep walking. "I'll be right there." I tell her pulling the note from my pocket. She looks skeptical, but doesn't argue.

I really don't know what to expect on the note. At first I worry that it's a message from Caleb, through Cara, but I don't even know if they've been communicating, or if she even knows the relationship between Caleb and me. Then again, what if it's a message about Erudite, transferring, or even the plan to leave? Did Cara find out? And if she found out, who else knows?

But it isn't any of those things.

_Be careful Tris. You're under surveillance._

I stare at Cara's perfect handwriting, and feel two conflicting emotions: fear, and acceptance. I've been under surveillance since I first joined Dauntless, and I should have expected a higher surveillance after my trip to Max's office. But the fear rolling through my veins isn't fear for myself, it's for everyone around me. What if they get punished for things I've done? Christina, Shauna, and all the others. What was Cara risking getting this note to me? Would she get in trouble? What if they connect me back to Susan, she's strong but not invincible. I could care less if they trace me to Caleb. What about Four? What could happen to him? Half of me wants to shield him, and half of me says to hell with it. He clearly doesn't want anything to do with me anymore, so why should I?

_Because it's the right thing to do, because you care for him. _

My feet trip on their own, the voice in my head sounding so much like my mother's. A renewed ache for her spread through my chest, and my throat tightened.

Everything is so pale now, so numb, and so empty. I've never felt this kind of weight on my shoulder, like gravity had tripled. As long as I could do my job today, get through it and make it home in one piece, I would be okay. Then I just need to repeat the next day, and the next day, until I can't get out of bed anymore.

This is my life. Lucky me.

At least I don't have to dance tonight. It's Male Dancer Night at Dauntless tonight, so worst case scenario is I get called in to supervise. And it wouldn't be so bad, now that I know two of the dancers.

"Tris!"

I pick my head up, and see Matthew looking at me from the back door of The Pit.

"What is it?" I ask forcing my voice to sound like I haven't spent the majority of the day crying.

"You'd better get in here."

My pace speeds up just a bit. I'm surprised at how wet I am from the melted snow until I get into the backroom. The heat is on, and my skin rubs against my clothing painfully.

"How long were you out there?" He asks helping me take my wet coat off.

"I don't know. Why?"

"Your lips are blue."

"Oh."

Christina comes around the corner quickly then. "There you are, come on you're late."

"Late for what?"

"Our meeting."

I'm about to ask Christina what meeting she's talking about, until we walk out onto the floor, and Peter stands there. Peter has only ever been in here twice that I can remember. He doesn't like it and complains of it smelling like grease. Last time he was here he caught me giving some extra food to a homeless man out back. I was barely 18 at the time and didn't receive any tips for a week.

"Now that everyone is here," he pulls out his clipboard. "I have an announcement. As you all know tonight is normally our Male Dancer Night at Dauntless, but we are doing something different."

Shauna looks nervous. Lynn groans. Myra pales. Marlene picks at her fingers. Christina's grip on my arm tightens again, and I release a large sigh.

"Tonight, for the first time in Dauntless history, we will be having a collaboration night. Oh and don't worry about our guests, they've known about this for a while. Only our most loyal customers were told about this event, and it's invite only."

"Collaboration?" Marlene asks, almost glaring at Peter. She's only known him for a few weeks and already hates him, it almost makes me smile.

"Yes. Tonight, only half of our male dancers will be participating, and the other half, will be female dancers. Three of you, and two from your counter group."

"Do we get a say in this at all?" Lynn asks frowning.

"We never do." Christina mumbles.

"Right then, the lucky three. Raven." Gravity is back and it is not kind. "Candy, and Luscious."

Shauna lets out a sigh of relief and then looks from Lynn to Peter. "Why do you never use our real names? Especially here or anywhere outside of Dauntless."

"It makes him feel powerful." Marlene snickers.

Christina laughs under her breath as Marlene and Peter have a stare down. There's tension between the two of them, and it's almost frightening how much Marlene challenges him. It's no doubt just by looking at Peter that he is physically strong and able to handle himself. But just looking at how all of us girls are wrapped in a semi-circle around him, makes me feel elated – we really could all take him down if we worked together.

"When do we leave?" I ask before a fight can break out.

"Now. Eric wants you to get acquainted with your fellow dancers tonight."

"Fine." I keep my voice as even as I can, and Lynn, Christina and I turn to walk towards the parking lot. Peter leaves in an unmarked black car before we reach Christina's car. We are escorted by some more black coats in their own cars. Lynn hops in the back with me in the passenger seat and we pull out of the lot.

"Why would he want _me_ to come in?" Lynn asks annoyed. "You two are more popular and consistently bringing in more money than me. Even Shauna makes more than I do."

"Have you seen your tips lately?" Christina asks shell-shocked. "You've been beating all of us for the last couple nights. Maybe your popularity has just risen."

"Or maybe Eric thinks you're special." I snort. Christina laughs a careful laugh, and Lynn glares daggers in the back of my head. She knows it's a joke, but it really isn't a joke when Eric takes a "special" interest in you. That could mean transfer, special favors, or else.

The parking lot at Dauntless is nearly empty. Uriah's black truck is here, and that makes me feel a bit better. I don't recognize any of the others. I don't even know if Eric has a car. I've never seen him drive except when he drove me to Max's office.

"Do you guys know any of the other female dancers or male dancers?" Christina asks.

"Yes." I say as Lynn says "No." They both look at me strangely. Honestly, I can't believe Christina didn't recognize Uriah from the _double date that wasn't a double date _with her and Will. Christina has supervised a male dancer night at Dauntless before, so maybe she just wasn't paying too much attention. I hope Will's not here tonight.

"Who?" They both ask.

"You'll recognize him. I think." I say getting out of the car. The snow has stopped falling now, but the whole ground, even the roads are covered in a slushy gray-white mixture. The yellow streetlights almost making it look like dirt.

"Let's go meet our new friends." Christina says sarcastically.

Lynn walks through the back entrance first. "Hey Lauren."

"It's Glo here _Luscious_. Do well to remember that." Glo growls in the back of her throat. Christina goes in next, and I mumble a small apology to Glo as I walk in last. She just nods at me, and shuts the door behind me, sealing in the warmth of the back room.

There's only a few people here, and none that I recognize. Uriah must be getting changed.

Peter comes up behind us scribbling on his clipboard, and tells us to do the same - that our outfits will be labeled for tonight, and that they'll be corresponding to a male counterpart by color. Lynn rolls her eyes and groans. Peter glares at her before a crash and some laughter over by the male dancers catches his attention.

"What I wouldn't give to smack the little weasel with his clipboard into next year." Christina mumbles as we make our way to the dressing room.

"Smack him? How about burry him?" Lynn suggests smiling. Lynn's mind has always been particularly dark, but tonight, Christina and I smile at her comment.

In the dressing room, there's only one other girl. She has long wavy dark brown hair that looks polished and fresh out of the salon. Currently she's clipping blue and blonde highlights into her hair, then pins it up in a long full ponytail. It's much more elegant than my wig's ponytail. Hers is posh, where mine is messy. She's tall like Christina, curvy too. Her skin tone, though hard to make an accurate observation in the dim back room lighting, looks darker than olive, but not chestnut like Christina's. She pulls on a black crop top with ¾ sleeves, that dips down too low to be worn alone. And then she pulls on the one clothing item we all fear wearing: black leather underwear. In all fairness, it could easily be a swimsuit bottom, but it's so skimpy and easy for customers to get their hands "accidentally stuck in". Not to mention it rides up in an extremely uncomfortable manner. She finishes off with black ankle boots, perfect for stomping. Her color accent is a striking blue, worn as a visible bra under her black crop top, and the buckles on her black ankle boots which would normally be silver, don the blue as well.

"Can I help you?" Her voice startles me. Her eyes are the same striking blue, clashing against her darker skin in a haunting fashion.

It's only then I realize she isn't talking to me. Lynn was staring at her too, her mouth hanging open a bit.

Suddenly the girl's face changes, and I recognize a practiced mask. "You'll catch more bugs than tips if you keep that up." She then saunters by us, appealing to Lynn's expression and leaves the dressing room with a flick of her hips. I'm sure I'm not the only one to notice the small anchor tattoo on the side of her ass.

Christina claps Lynn on the back. "You were always one to make a great first impression," giggling under her breath.

I turn back to look at the outfits Peter has provided us with, and give a silent prayer of thanks that none of us have to wear the black leather underwear too.

Our outfits are all different. There are some times when I swear that Peter would make an excellent fashion director, but I know he'd deck me if I told him that. The thought makes me giggle. It feels good to laugh, but then I remember all the shit going on in my life and my expression turns solemn again.

Christina's is a skin tight black leather dress, halter top, with a large zipper down the front that only unzips to her cleavage. Her shoes are simple and black with a small heel, and three small orange bows on each outer side of her fishnet stockings. She scowls at them.

Lynn is in the typical black strapless bra with long black leather pants, leading into simple black pumps. Her color accent is green, in the form of suspenders. The outfit oddly suits her tomboy personality, but also brings out her more feminine figure. One I know she would rather hide in a sweatshirt.

My outfit is a sleeveless black romper, with a sweetheart neckline, and tight corset shaping on the front. The fabric in the back of the romper folds over in two weaves giving it a loose braid effect, and a whole at my lower back to show off my Dauntless tattoo. To my relief, Peter has left out my favorite knee-high black leather boots for me to wear. My color is red, in the form of a choker necklace, and red and black fingerless fishnet gloves that come up to my elbow.

Another girl walks in just as I finish situating my wig in place. She's much smaller than any other dancer I've seen. She has short, cropped blonde hair, and brown eyes. She wears a black dress made of thin material. A yellow rope like belt around her middle.

"Hey," Christina says in a way that is less of a casual greeting, and more of a: _who are you?_ The girl stops, almost frightened when she sees us.

"You're the Group A dancers, aren't you?" Her eyes suddenly narrow, almost in an accusing fashion. I wonder how we've offended her.

Christina nods. "What's your name?"

She stands a little taller, and raises her chin. "Athena." She can't be more than five feet tall. Her shoes are a barely there black wedge.

Lynn snorts. "Eric named you after a Greek God?"

Athena glares at Lynn. "At least I'm not named after an animal."

I raise my hand. "That would actually be me."

Christina has her mouth shut tight and her cheeks are turning red to keep from laughing. Athena looks absolutely horrified at her mistake. Lynn is smirking almost sinisterly at her. The feeling of laughter fills my chest, but is quickly squashed when I register just how young Athena really is. She wears heavy makeup, but she can't be more than sixteen. She's still a child.

I leave the dressing room then, and notice my expression in one of the floor to ceiling mirrors at the dressing room entrance. My typical resting bitch face in place, matched with my get up, I can see why Athena would be startled at making fun of my name. I look scary, and I can't decide if I like it or not. Faintly, I can hear Athena panicking to Christina and Lynn that she may have offended me, but I can also hear Christina tell her not to worry about it.

Al walks by without a look in my direction suddenly, probably hurrying to the sound station. But he looks panicked, and sweaty.

Uriah is sitting at my station when I reach back stage. There's more people here now. And what really throws me off, is there's more people with clipboards, more Peters. All of them scurrying around, talking to different dancers, males and females. Peter and one other are the only ones wearing black. A smaller one wears blue, another gray, one dark red, and one surprisingly wears a dark purple shirt. The colors of the factions, the other clubs. And the purple is the color of The Gutter. A shiver runs down my spine remembering Eric's words, some of us are likely to be transferred soon. Why else would they all be here if not to just evaluate us? _Because we've never had an "evaluation" by someone from a different club before. _ They're here to scout us. Cara's note floats in my head. _Under surveillance._

"Hey Raven, everything okay?" Uriah stands as I near him.

My dancer name doesn't sound as foreign or as harsh on his lips as it does on so many others. It's nice to have someone outside my group of girls to know who I am and actually treat me like an individual in person and in their tone of voice. I've expected for so long, that when people would find out about me they would have two different reactions: try to use me, and completely shun me. So far, both predictions have come true. People like Professor Thompson, who thought I was his for the taking. And people like Four, who find out about what I do, immediately assume the worst and shut me out. I hadn't realized what a fear of mine it was until I watched him walk away Tuesday night.

My own voice is low as I speak, still feeling the effects of the cold spike. "Feeling a little overwhelmed actually. Nothing I can't handle."

He frowns. "Wouldn't have anything to do with our brooding-buddy now would it?"

I feel my lips curl into a small smirk. "If by brooding-buddy you mean Four, then yes, it does. But not all of it." I look down at my hands, picking at my fingernails. "I'm having some familial, difficulties."

Uriah nods his head, then pauses. "Family? I thought you- I thought you were alone."

His words sting more than they should. "I was, and still am in some ways. My brother was living in New York for the last four years. He returned five days ago. I had just met with him when you picked me up in your truck this last weekend."

"Ahhh, yeah you didn't seem too happy. So, an older brother. Is he Zeke's age? Older?"

"No, he's actually only ten months older than me. We were in the same grade because of it, a lot of people thought we were twins."

"Well I'll keep my eye open for a blonde haired blue eyed jerk-wad."

I can't help the laugh that spills out of my mouth at Uriah's statement, matched with a perfectly straight face. "We actually don't look anything alike, except for maybe our noses. He has brown hair and green eyes. Zeke could point him out to you. My brother, Caleb, was at The Pit yesterday and sat right next to Zeke for a half hour."

"Oh. Yeah. Hmm." Uriah fidgets in his stance.

My eyes narrow. "What?"

"I know who you're talking about, Zeke assumed, with Shauna's suggestion as well, that he was either a client of yours or a past boyfriend," he says looking rather guilty.

A pit drops in my stomach for the thousandth time today. "Did he tell Four?"

"I don't know."

"We're on in five minutes!" Peter's voice breaks the trance. For a moment talking to Uriah, I forgot where we were, what we were about to do, and what we were dressed as. My knees feel cold, and my chest feels numb. I need Raven to take over. "All partnered pairs to the stage!"

I look at Uriah's outfit. He wears black cargo pants with black suspenders, a vibrant blue bowtie, and the zipper on his pants is blue as well. I'm instantly reminded of the girl in the dressing room. "Who's your partner?" I ask.

"A girl from the B Dauntless group. I think her dancer name is Sapphire."

It's just then that I spot Sapphire across the room with her bright blue eyes trained on us. She's walking over towards Uriah with a stern look on her face.

"That would make sense. Have fun." I pat his shoulder. "Who am I with?"

He looks me over. "Your color is red, so you are partnered with…" he pauses looking over the crowd of dancers and mini Peters running around. "Ah, you're with Slade." He points to someone in the very back. I can't see too much of him from here, but I do see his blonde hair gelled out of his eyes. He's one of the tallest people in the room.

"He looks charming."

Uriah smiles at my sarcasm. "He doesn't dance with us too much, usually just showing up for our appearances at Erudite. I'm surprised to see him here though. I can't remember the last time he danced at Dauntless."

"He gets to choose when he dances?"

"Personally, I think his dad has something to do with it." Uriah's voice is much lower now. "But I don't think he knows."

"Whose his dad?"

"Some bigwig I think. Definitely a millionaire."

"So he's paying off Max?"

"That would be my guess."

"So I'm with a spoiled rich boy who ran away."

"Hey," his voice softens. "Try not to go too hard on him. He's had a rough life."

"Who hasn't?" I mumble, instantly thinking of my parents, Shauna and Lynn trying to put Hector through school, Christina and her uncle. A sweat breaks out on my brow. "Uriah, is Will here tonight?"

Uriah frowns and shakes his head. Relief floods me. "Why?"

"Christina is here."

His mouth forms an O in realization. Which also confirms my theory, she still doesn't know he's a dancer. I'm actually impressed for a brief moment at how long Will's been able to keep this secret from Christina. Maybe she's not as good of a lie detector as she claims. Not that I would dare tell her that.

Sapphire has reached us now, giving me a quick glare before turning to face Uriah, putting her full body between the two of us. "Looks like I'm your partner, Snake." She eyes him up and down. "Were you named as such for your body? Or, a specific part of your body?" Her face and body language shout confidence, but her voice is less so. She's trying too hard. No wonder she's in the Group B of Dauntless dancers. If she had confidence in her voice as well, she could have easily been with us. Maybe she still will be, since Myra has shown to be less than impressive, contrary to Eric's hopes for her.

Uriah smirks playfully at her, his own mask in place. "Guess you'll never know." Sapphire smirks and her tongue pokes out between her teeth.

I take my leave then, nodding off to Uriah.

Christina has lined up on the far left of the stage with her partner, a burly looking guy with shaggy brown hair. Lynn has been paired with a guy who has carrot orange hair, and she looks absolutely disgusted with him already. His hair practically glows under the back stage lighting. I look down at his uniform and see his unbuttoned green polo. Really though, picking green as an accent color for someone with orange hair was probably not the best move, some might think its St. Patrick's day at Dauntless. Athena has been paired up with a pale young man with shucks of black hair.

Slade stands off to the far right, he doesn't look at me as I step up to him. If he looked tall across the room, he looks even taller now. Probably enough to fit two Athena's on top of each other. And dare I say, he's taller than Four.

Slade doesn't acknowledge me as I step next to him, and his face remains firmly in a scowl. He has a small bump on his nose that doesn't look natural, and his ears have small dents in them, like they used to be pierced but closed. There's a small scar on his cheek, and an even bigger one running from his shoulder, across his collar bone and ending near his sternum. He wears black cargo pants like Uriah, with a red zipper instead of blue. He also has on a black construction looking vest with red accents.

Peter comes up to us. "Slade, Raven, you two will be Lust tonight. Your main event is at midnight."

"Lust?" The word jostles out of my mouth, tasting foreign and sour. Slade just nods, still not looking over at me.

Peter continues. "That means you'll be doing the," he smirks, "intimate relations, dance tonight. Also, you two have a private dance booked together at 2a.m."

The music changes from the warm up tune to get everyone in the crowd ready, to a steadier beat with drums, a violin, and a cello. The opening act.

All of the girls line up in front of the boys, and the curtain rises just to our hips. We all slink under the curtain and perform some kind of dynamic pose, slowly moving. I go for the traditional, hands in the hair, hips swaying to the slower beat, jolting every now and then at the drum. We move forward, and the crowd – a healthy mix of men and women – watches us with anticipation. Once at the edge of the stage, the drums pick up slightly, and the music gets a bit louder. The crowd makes a little more noise, and without looking back, I know the men have joined us. In a few moments more, I feel a pair of large hands on my waist, my hand instantly goes up to caress Slade's face. We're supposed to be lust right? My head turns in towards his chest and his head dips down till our foreheads are touching. I almost wonder how much strain he's putting on his neck to reach my head, but then I remember that I'm also wearing four inch heels. The act continues on, and slowly, each couple gets their time at center stage for a brief moment, giving the audience a taste of each individual act that's to come later in the night. Until eventually, we all break off into the crowd to being our work. Christina and the man with brown hair are up first. They seem to be a young couple in a violent love story with the way they dance. Their music is light, loud, with a lot of push and pull movements.

I see a few familiar faces in the crowds as I go around giving lap dances, putting my hands on men's thighs, even appealing to some girls who want my attention. Raven gives it to them with delight, while I hide away in my head.

There's a small commotion halfway through the second individual dance of Athena and the other man I don't know. Over in one of the booths on the opposite side of the room. A girl is pushing Lynn's partner, the carrot head, away from her, an angry expression on her face. She's part of a bachelorette party, and the bride is crying.

Uriah was talking with an older woman who looks to be a regular client of his, and they both stop to look over as well.

Eric comes out from the back then, and escorts the carrot head away, giving what looks like a charming heartfelt apology to the women. Then calling one of the bar tenders over to their table. Free drinks most likely. Because of course the best solution for everything is free alcohol.

"What was that about?" A man next to me asks, now standing closer to me than I'd like.

"Don't worry about that. Let me make you feel good instead." Raven purrs into his neck, and the man happily accepts. Raven walks away ten minutes later with another sixty dollars in her boots.

Midnight comes around faster than I'd like. And soon, Slade and I are up on the stage, and a nervous tremor runs through me. The crowd has quieted, and it feels like the eyes fixed on me are preying on me.

The lights above suddenly dim and turn red. There's low music, and bass that beats slower than a heartbeat. I've never performed this routine, but I've seen it done before. I've never danced with a man this way, but I've seen it done before. The routine starts slow, with a push and pull setting much like Christina's dance. Slade pulls me close, then I push away. I reach for him, and he spins out of reach. When I get away from him again, he grabs me hard and small gasp escapes my lips. His fingers tense for a brief moment, then relax again. His hands are large and warm. They slide across my neck, down my arms, along my waist, the open skin of my back, up my legs, across my butt, everywhere. One of his hands even slides down the center of my chest while my back is glued to his front. I take notice that his hand is careful not to touch either of my breasts. I take a heavy gasp for the audience and the music speeds up just slightly. Our limbs tangle as we move together. Even Four and I haven't been this tangled, nor moved like this before. Soon, he dips me down in front of him, with my butt firmly pressed up against his crotch. Money begins to land in front of us. Slade moves me slowly against him, before yanking me back up once more, and turning me to face him in one motion, my legs wrap around his waist. I feel sick suddenly at how sudden of a reaction, and how natural of a reaction it was. I catch a small glimpse at his inner bicep, and there's a faint discoloring against his skin. It's also smeared with cover-up. A tattoo? Even more confusing, is why would he have a covered-up tattoo? Eric likes us to show our tattoos. But I don't get to ask. The dance ends with the stage covered in green money, and as a final act, Slade carries me like his lover, off stage behind the curtain, into the blackness of backstage.

He sets me down gently. "I'm sorry I hurt you." His voice startles me, and is much deeper than I anticipated.

"It's fine." I say once I find my voice once more. "I just don't think I was expecting it. I've never done that dance before."

"Me neither." He still doesn't smile, and he still doesn't really look at me. "You're much lighter than I thought. I wouldn't have pulled so hard if I'd known."

The thought of Four pulling me to his chest rather harshly because he didn't know how light I was either flashes to the front of my memory. And the pit in my stomach returns, and I'm out of breath once more.

I look back over at Slade, and realize, that through the permanent looking scowl on his face, he looks sad. His chocolate colored eyes don't shine, and they don't look hopeful. There's a twitch my chest and I find I want to help him. I don't like seeing people sad. But I'd probably have to be his friend to know what was bothering him, and even then there's no telling if he would admit what it is that's making him this way. I never was good at making friends. Maybe if I just get him to start talking. Maybe if I do what Four did to me at the Chasm . . .

"What's your favorite color?" I ask sitting down at the station next to where he stands. We don't have to be out on the floor for another five minutes.

This time he looks at me, and cocks one eyebrow. "What?"

"What's your favorite color?"

Slade studies me, at least he's showing a different expression than he's been showing all night. He takes another moment to himself before he speaks. "Why?" His arms tense, as though shielding himself, or preparing to shield himself. His left arm, the one with the covered-up tattoo – at least I'm pretty sure it's a covered-up tattoo – is held closest to his body. Whatever he's hiding has to be important.

I release a long sigh. "I'm trying to get to know you."

He stiffens. "Not interested."

"You don't make friends very easily do you?"

His scowl returns.

Peter decides it's the perfect time to walk by then and offers us shots before going back out. Straight vodka. I take mine quickly and feel the warmth spread down my neck and into my chest. Though it's not as comforting as it was when I was sixteen.

Peter offers Slade his shot, a smirk on his face. Slade is glowering, his eyes piercing a hole into Peter's skull before he stalks off.

"Slade?" I ask standing, about to walk after him.

"Don't bother. He's totally messed up." Peter is grinning. "Dude doesn't drink alcohol, and gets angry just looking at it. Doesn't make friends. Doesn't talk unless ordered to, and absolutely refuses to dance for any girl with dark red hair."

"That's pretty specific. Eric's okay with that?"

"What I'm okay with and what I'm not okay with, you should already know Raven." Eric's voice startles both Peter and me as he walks out towards us from his office, passing us. "Don't go dipping into matters that don't concern you." He's scowling, picks up the third shot, Slade's shot, and downs it before throwing the glass against the wall. It shatters and falls like rain. The sound hits me hard and I grit my teeth. "Clean it up Peter." He says before going back to his office.

I glance over at Peter and find even he looks a little confused by Eric's behavior. But the moment doesn't last too long because soon he pushes me out to the floor like I'm nothing.

Uriah is near the entrance to backstage when I stumble out. He even catches me from falling over, and gives me a small smile. "Looks like you just fell for me."

I push him off, trying not to smile in reply. "Let go Snake."

"Oh you two look so good together!" A woman's voice catches me off guard. I glance at the booth behind us. There sits a group of women in their mid to late thirties, dressed like high schoolers, who were clearly just getting attention from Uriah. "Would you dance together for us?"

"Oh yes would you please!?" Another pulls out her camera.

Uriah steps forward. "I'm afraid you can't take photos or videos in here. Dauntless policy."

"Please Snake?"

"Sorry Mary. Gotta be a good boy, sometimes." He gives her a wink, and she practically faints. Then he turns to me. "What do you say Raven?"

Raven smiles at Snake as seductive as she can muster with all the emotional shit flying through my head. Raven walks over to the nearby pole and begins to circle it, inviting Snake closer. He complies. And together, Raven and Snake fit together extremely well. Molding to the pole and each other. Raven feels a twinge of pain as Snake lifts her up and pins her spine against the pole, but she doesn't show it.

The women hand Uriah and I each fifty dollars after seven minutes. He then walks me over to the bar, in the process of getting the women more drinks.

"You okay?" He asks quietly.

"That's the second time you've asked me that in two and a half hours."

He coughs. "Yeah, I just thought I'd ask, again."

I turn to face him when we reach the bar. Our drink-master-extraordinaire hands us each a shot. I take mine without hesitation, and find I don't feel bad for not even knowing the bartender's name.

Uriah pauses with his shot in his hand, and he looks around the room three times before downing it.

"Do you have a stalker?" I ask bluntly.

He looks confused at this. "A what?"

"It's okay if you do, a lot of the girls have had stalkers before. It's like every time I see you know you're looking over your shoulder."

"No, I'm just, observing."

"Bullshit."

His hand flies to his mouth in mock shock. "Raven swearing! Oh the humanity!"

"Snake." His name is more of a hiss on my lips.

My eyes narrow as his face turns more serious. "You're kind of oblivious you know."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I feel close to stomping my foot. He looks over his shoulder one last time. I follow his gaze, but only see a crowd of people against the back wall enjoying themselves. "Who are you looking for?"

Now he takes his shot.

"Have a good night Raven." He says handing the glass back to the bartender, and walks into the crowd, not giving me a look back.

I don't see Slade again until our private dance at 2a.m. It's just dancing for a party of people, all looking like their having a good time. I'd guess they were college burnouts who wanted to go out to see dancers rather than order a stripper at home. Our dance is similar to our stage dance, red lighting and low music. Slade feels entirely tense against me, different from our dance on stage. It's frustrating to dance against a stiff board. I start to push him harder. It catches him off guard and he pushes me harder in return. Our dance is a fight. Two frustrated people whose lives are in shambles, dancing for other people's pleasure just to survive.

We exit the private dance just to see the last of Uriah and Sapphire's individual dance on stage. Their theme is electricity I think, lots of jumping, stomping, and the music is near techno. Blue, purple, and red lighting flashes around them with the occasional strobe lighting. I think their dance should come with an epilepsy warning. Sapphire is hanging off of Uriah like he's a lifeline, and at one point even latches herself onto his chest with her legs around his waist, then bends backwards to hang off of him like an acrobat. Her smile is sultry and intense. She moves like a dancer, graceful and with purpose. Putting emotion and power into every step, every flinch, and every toe point. It's magnetic and I find myself slightly envious of her.

Christina is hanging off of the lap of some business man, who clearly has had too much to drink. He fumbles with the money in his hands and giggles like a child as he nears her chest.

The night comes to a gradual close, and everyone in the audience seems satisfied. There was such a variety tonight, it's almost impossible for them not to have been. I don't stick around this time to see if the woman from Tuesday night is here or not. She probably only liked my dancing and moved on. I don't why else she would have stared at me the way she did.

Uriah seems disappointed backstage, and when Sapphire asks him what was up, he pouts and says his brother wasn't here tonight to see him kill it on stage. Sapphire smiles and Uriah smiles. She looks more comfortable around him, relaxed, and less fierce than before, even though she's still in her get-up. It makes me wonder if they've met before. I wouldn't be surprised.

At first it seems the guys don't know whether to do into the dressing room with us girls or wait for us to finish. All the girls except Athena usher them in. It doesn't matter to us that much. We're all in this business, and honestly I don't have much of an issue if they see something I would normally blush at sharing. I change quickly in the corner, back into my day clothes and shake my hair out after taking my wig off. Taking off the layers of makeup is a whole separate challenge seeing as so much of it is sweat proof, water proof, and practically nuclear explosion proof.

"Come back here!"

"No!"

Christina looks over at me as she finishes pulling her shirt over her head. Everyone else in the dressing room has stopped as well.

I walk out followed by a few others. Lynn is standing behind her partner glaring at him. Peter is chasing said partner – the carrot head – fuming.

"You know the rules Rocky."

Hmm. He doesn't look like a Rocky. He's actually rather lean.

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"I can't cover for you anymore." Peter's voice is low, but not _that_ low. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Peter actually cares for this guy. "Eric already knows."

The carrot head, Rocky pales slightly.

At the mention of his name, Eric enters, powerful strides and a stern look upon his face. All the other dancers have gathered around now. Lynn still stands near him, looking absolutely pissed. She looks over at us, specifically me and Christina, then waves us off.

"I've had enough of your shit." Eric says moving closer to Rocky. "This is the third strike. I'd only keep you if you brought in enough money, but you barely make quota now. You're done."

Christina bumps my shoulder, and I follow her line of sight. In Eric's hand is a black picture frame and a purple ribbon. The Gutter.

"Peter." Eric says sternly. Peter in return, hands him a compact hammer. Eric sets the picture frame on the table, and nails the purple ribbon onto the frame. It's done.

Rocky is a mess, eyes glistening and his lip trembling. "Please don't. Don't do this to me! Peter help me!"

Peter remains silent. It's one of the first times I've seen him look solemn.

"Rocky, your time here is done. Tomorrow you are to report to The Gutter. Glo, Bane, please see him out." Glo and a burly looking guy named Bane grab Rocky by each arm and haul him to the back.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you." Eric's voice boomed. "Bring in the money, keep the customer happy, but keep your hands to yourself. If you're strong enough to follow these rules, you belong in Dauntless. If not, we'll waste no more time on you. You chose to work here, now we get to choose you."

Everyone gets the message, we're dismissed for now. Lynn walks over to us.

"What happened?" Christina asks.

"He was getting really handsy with a client. I had to follow him all night to make sure his hand didn't accidentally find its way up some girl's skirt. As it turns out, the girl he was feeling up was invited by him to come tonight, and she's seventeen. She didn't like what he was doing, told him to stop, and he didn't."

Images of Professor Thompson enter my mind, and my knees feel weak and my stomach sick.

"Apparently it's happened before." Lynn continues. "And get this. He's Peter's cousin."

Christina and Lynn continue to talk about this revelation while I head to the back door, needing some fresh air while Thompson still floats around in my mind. The scene I stumble upon outside surprises me, and yet, I should have seen it coming.

Marlene stands there in her normal clothing, shivering, and close to tears. Uriah stands in front of her, pure shock on his face. Even though it seems he guessed it to be true. She's talking with him quietly, no doubt about our plans to leave.

I walk by them, shooting Uriah a look. _Listen to her._

He nods and some of the shock disappears from his face, but he still looks pained.

The snow has started to fall harder again. Covering the gray and mucky snow already in the parking lot with a pure white color, bathed in blue neon lights that wrap around the entirety of the outside of Dauntless. It begins to soak through the soles of my shoes, numbing my toes.

"Come on Tris let's get going." Christina comes running out the door to her car. I get in shortly after. Lynn isn't with us. She and Shauna live nearby so she must have walked. "Overall, pretty eventful night. And hey, finals are over! That means we get to sleep in tomorrow. You know I was thinking about doing a full day of cooking tomorrow, maybe we can-"

Christina continues to ramble on and I shut my eyes as she pulls out of the lot. I don't intentionally block her out, but with thought of Thompson, and Four still drifting through my mind, I'm physically and emotionally exhausted.

Christina turns into our complex, and I open my eyes to a near blizzard and Christina's voice. "Oh, do you mind if I sleep in your bed with you tonight? My heating blanket died."

****There it is! Hope you enjoyed this super-duper long chapter (almost 10,000 words)! Please review! Also I don't know when it is I'll be able to update again, but my promise still stands, I will not give up on this story!****


	27. Chapter 27

****I'm back from the dead. Seriously. These last couple of months for me have been Hell in school. Three, ten-week-long group projects to complete, and two individual six-week-long projects. I've had bits and pieces of time, but whenever I did, I mostly used it for decompression and relaxing. Then, this last weekend was my first free weekend in forever and I actually celebrated my birthday then! It was officially on Monday and now I'm 21 lol. It's such an overly hyped birthday, and I'm not a party person at all. Anywho, I'm sorry for the delay.**

**Good news is that it's now summer! While I do work a full time job, I frequently have free time between projects to sit down and write at a computer so I'm hoping to be able to get more done for you guys. However I am taking a class for six weeks this summer, and I was recently promoted so now I'll have some more job responsibilities. **

**But enough about that! Here's chapter 27 in Four's POV, and I hope you enjoy! Some swearing included - not much.**

**Also, for those who follow my-not-as-frequently-updated Wattpad account, I have been trying to upload my chapters on to their site, but every time I try they end up published blank. I submitted a help ticket to see what's going on, so, we'll see what happens. There's only 3 chapters on that site because I honestly forgot about it, then had issues with it such as this one. So, sorry for those who prefer Wattpad.****

**Four's POV - Friday, December 12****th**

"What do you mean you _won't be there_?!" I've seen Amar angry before, seething even. It makes me uncomfortable every time.

"I have my own reasons."

"This won't look good on your report as a T.A."

My skin feels cold, but I haven't been able to really feel warmth since Tuesday. "Yeah." The thought of seeing her sends my stomach rolling, again. "Tell them I'm sick or something."

Amar huffs and runs a hand into his hair. "I just don't understand why you can't be there. Four, I want to write a good report for you, but I can't if you put me in this position. Can't you at least try to explain it to me? Help me understand? Maybe then we can come up with a good enough reason for you not to be there?"

I stare at the floor. I don't want to see her. Yet, I do. I want to get in her face and yell at her for the decision she made. How could she work _there?_ Doing, whatever it is they do. It makes my chest tight and there's a copper taste in my mouth, the same taste I get right before I throw up. Just seeing her, like that . . . She deserves so much better. How could she be so stupid?! Does she think herself that low? Needing to show skin and beg for money with a swing of her hips? She's smarter than that. I'm ashamed at how I felt initially watching her dance, she was enchanting, haunting, beautiful. She moved differently than the other dancers. She was reserved, but ready to dive in head first to whatever act was required. Her expressions changed with the music, and the little noises that escaped her mouth launched my heart into my throat. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't breathe.

And then she came over, and I remembered what kind of place it actually is. She tried to talk to me, but I couldn't hear anything. Red clouded my vision and adrenaline rushed through me. I felt dizzy, furious, helpless, stupid, and I knew that I just needed to get out of there. I needed time to think. I didn't look back to see her reaction, because I knew it would have broken me.

She's smart, so why is she there?

_She's smart. And she's good at Amar's class._ I turn my face to Amar, who is still waiting patiently for my explanation. "How long do you think it'll take the top ten percent in the class to finish the final?"

Amar cocks an eyebrow and pauses. "About 80 to 90 minutes most likely."

"I'll show up then. But not before."

He sighs heavily and rubs a hand down his face. "That's better than not showing up at all, but I still have to make a mark on your report." Amar picks up his side bag, about ready to head off to his first class, the one before _hers._ "Four, will you please tell me what's going on? Don't you trust me?"

Trust. There's that word again. Didn't she trust me? Of course not, she told me herself. But she was opening up to me. Was she ever going to tell me? Did I trust her? I didn't think that any secret of hers would be as big as this one. Did I really take the time to consider the possibility?

Do I trust Amar? I look back up at him, his brown eyes pleading with me. He'll be angry for sure. Do I trust him? Yes.

"One of the students." I start, my mouth suddenly going dry. "And I, have started seeing each other. Sort of."

Amar's mouth falls open, and the raging anger returns. "Are you out of your mind?! You couldn't wait till the end of the term to pursue her? Jesus Four! Of all the T.A's I've ever known, you were the least likely to ever do something this stupid!"

Amar leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. A string of curse words follow him down the hall. I don't feel bad about it, like I probably should. But the echoing of the slamming door cuts my breathing in half as memories of Marcus slamming the closet door in on me flood back.

I sit down in Amar's chair and duck my head between my legs. Rationally, I know this should not be affecting me this much. Irrationally, I can still hear his shouts and feel his belt on my back. I have no one to turn to. No one for comfort, or even a distraction. That was Tris, and now I may have lost her too. She didn't even know the extent of the damage, yet I was ready to tell her everything before I knew of her night time activities.

How can someone like her, also be someone like that?

* * *

I wait until the 87th minute mark, hoping she'll be done by now. She's smart, and usually finishes all of Amar's tests before the others. It was always slightly disappointing to watch her leave so soon, but a swell of pride emerged from my chest every time I wrote a blue "A" on her paper. She made connections faster than most people, and the way she wrote suddenly made everything make sense. It's like her mind was built for this, puzzle solving, intuition, and finding the pieces that fit together when others couldn't.

The stairwell still feels too constricting for my taste, and the view from each floor up is still nauseating. It's the highest floor I'm on this quarter, and for the last month, I was comfortable going up these stairs because I was focused on her. All the other fears went away. And now they're coming crashing back.

When I reach the top, my feet come to a sudden halt as the smell of her lotion, or shampoo comes to my senses. Rain, it smells like rain in the woods, or like a summer morning in the park after it rained the night before. It's clear, intoxicating, refreshing.

She's sitting with her back to me by the large window. Her shoulders are relaxed, but she sits so still, like she's used to being stared at.

The books under my arm fall to the floor with a loud thud. I don't look down at them.

Tris stands suddenly, turning in alarm in my direction. As soon as she sees me, her stance turns from startled, to defensive, to pissed off. It's like she doesn't know how to react to seeing me, only that she doesn't _want_ to see me.

"Four." Her voice is like venom, and nectar at the same time.

A shiver runs down my spine at the sound of my name on her lips, and my shoulders stiffen.

She takes a step forward, and I instantly take a step back. I'm not even sure why, but I can't take the action back now. The hurt is evident on her face, her breathing is hard and labored, eyes that were once wide now narrow.

Images of her at the club flash before me, and I feel myself cringe – not at her, but how I acted. How I'm acting now isn't much better.

"You don't trust me." She says relaxing her shoulders and glaring at me. I look away, suddenly feeling like a small child. It makes me angry, the thought that anyone could have this kind of control over me. The thought that I _allow_ anyone to have this control over me.

Tris continues talking, and I still can't look at her. Anger fueling up inside me at how weak and coward-like I'm acting. "That's okay I guess, I didn't tell you the whole truth."

She thinks my anger is directed at her. Of course she does! She doesn't know me well enough to know that my anger almost always springs at how weak or stupid I am. It's a conditioned response from whenever Marcus would get angry at me – it was almost always one of those two reasons.

"If you want to grow a pair and talk, you know where to find me, day or _night._" She growls at me and all but stomps towards the stairs.

I force my mouth open to say something, to stop her, to tell her she's got it all wrong. Nothing comes out. She walks by and continues to walk down the stairs. The smell of the woods and rain lingering the air.

A large breath pushes from my lungs. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath.

I enter Amar's class with heavy limbs. Amar doesn't spare me a second glance. I don't blame him. I almost even trip over my own feet on my way to the student sized desk I'm to work from. I receive a few odd glances from the students in the room. Amar probably told them I wouldn't be coming at all. He didn't seem to have much faith in me earlier. I just want to put my head on my desk and disappear into a hole thinking about what a jackass I've been.

To my surprise, Amar actually walks over to me and hands me a small stack of papers. It's the first of the students' final papers, and sitting right on top, in perfect penmanship is the name Beatrice Prior. Her handwriting in the beginning of her answers is neat and proficient, and towards the end its more slanted like her hand got tired. She chose the topics of comparing themes between The Twelfth Night and As You Like It, finding the similarities between today's society and Macbeth – she chose to talk about the feeling of immortality that Macbeth portrayed compared to today's youth. And she chose to answer Amar's extra credit five point answer: What would have happened if Romeo received the message that Juliet was only faking her death and the plan worked to get them both out of Verona? The answer had to be at least five sentences, and it couldn't be something crazy or fantasy based, but he encouraged the students to be creative with the extra credit. Her words send a shockwave through me:

_Romeo and Juliet were young when they wed,_

_They grew together soaring high._

_Their love reached bounds further than they said,_

_Neither questioned the other's lie._

_For each other they would have bled,_

_But fate is fickle and they would say goodbye._

_For when push came to shove, both would be punish-ed._

_If they stayed together, their hearts in pain would cry, _

_One way or another, they would have both ended up dead._

I look up immediately at Amar. He knew. As soon as he read it he knew. This was the girl I had been with. One of his best and most respected students. And I had somehow damaged her.

This poem was for me.

Once again, I feel like slamming my head against something. I feel like chasing after her, wanting to explain everything going on inside my head. Wanting to explain to her why I reacted the way I did, that she did nothing wrong. Maybe she didn't make the best decision deciding to work there, for _Eric_ of all people, and knowing Eric, it can't be easy for her to get out of the job. I want to tell her that it was myself that I was angry with, for not seeing something like this in advance. She's had a screwy couple of years, she lost her parents, she was alone… of course that would be the kind of environment that would be drawn to her. And it would be an environment she could thrive in, she would be someone new with a new family.

Amar clears his throat and glares at me once more. I can't go after her. Not now. I have a job to do, papers to grade. Tris's paper is up first, and I already know she'll get an A.

* * *

The Pit is packed when I get there, slightly out of breath from jogging and nerves overflowing in my gut. What's the first thing I want to say to her again?

The first surprise I get when I walk in, is that Lynn isn't at the front seating people. Instead, it's a mousy looking girl with dark hair. I've seen her with Tris a few times. Her nametag says "Myra" and she doesn't smile at me. In fact, it looks like she hasn't smiled in a long time. Her face looks paler than it should be, and her eyes are hollowed. She glances over at a young man in the corner with a perfect view of her back, and he smirks at her. I've seen him in here before, harassing Tris, but I don't remember his name.

"Four." I look over at the counter and see Zeke bending over half a burger and fries.

"No cake before dinner? I'm surprised." I say casually as I walk over to him. But I don't sit down. I need to be standing when I talk to Tris. She needs to know I'm serious.

Shauna comes out from behind the counter and gives me a small wave before walking over to a table to take their order. Zeke watches her with admiration.

"Actually I had cake before you got here." He smirks. "How was the last final? Wait before you answer and before I forget, I needed to let you know that Uri and I are having a Christmas party of sorts next Sunday, the 21st. You need to be there as my best friend, and potentially my date." He shoves more fries into his mouth. It's honestly a miracle he still has a flat gut the way he eats. "Seriously though, it'll be great. Alcohol, some truth or dare, it'll be fun."

"Sure, fine. Where's Tris?"

Shauna stops short at my question, and her expression looks harsher; motherly almost, once again making me feel like a child. "Why do you want to know?"

Even Zeke looks uncomfortable. He knows something. His eyebrow twitches whenever he's keeping something from me, something bad.

"I need to talk to her. It's important."

"You know what you did was worse than how Zeke reacted don't you?"

I shoot him a look and he pales significantly, looking down at his fries. He knew. Of course he knew. I should have put that together. Every girl in here, Shauna even, they're apart of Eric's club. And Zeke knew. That's why he and Shauna fought. Even though he felt like an idiot afterwards and immediately went back to her. Kind of like what I'm doing.

"It's not what she thinks. I wasn't reacting to, what she, or what even you do. I was, I was angry at myself for not trusting her, for not knowing how to handle the situation, for knowing there wasn't much I could do about it, for what my mother told me—"

"Woah woah woah!" Zeke stands suddenly, getting the attention of nearly every person in the Pit. He quiets down instantly but still whispers in a harsh manner while Shauna tells everyone to return to their meal. "Your _mother_?!"

Oh, yeah.

"The person who sent you those stalker worthy photo albums and messages? That was your mother? The one you thought was dead?"

I pause for a moment, letting him catch his breath. "Yes."

"I need a minute to take this in." Zeke sits down unceremoniously in his chair. "Shauna, please finish interrogating my friend."

Shauna looks from Zeke to me, her arms no longer crossed over her body defensively. "Your mother met with you that day? Was that the first time you'd seen her?" Her voice was now more nurturing than accusing, but her eyes were still narrowed.

"In 14 years, yes. She told me she wanted to meet, and I wanted to see her for myself. At first I was angry she'd even suggest meeting with me after she abandoned me, but the more I thought about it, the more curious I became. Why now? Turns out she's been in Chicago this whole time."

"Where did you meet?" Shauna asks as Zeke's mind is still clearly reeling.

"That's the impossible thing, she wanted to meet _at_ Dauntless."

Both their eyes pop open. "So you weren't there because of Tris?" Shauna's voice is quiet, thinking.

"Not initially. Tris wanted me to meet her behind Dauntless after it closed on Saturday to tell me something, presumably this whole shit-storm – which I had only assumed that, maybe she had some kind of other waitress job or other affiliation with the place, never as a dancer." My words come out fast, jumbled, and I find my pulse rising. Shauna looks concerned. I take a breath before continuing. "But my mother contacted me earlier that day and tells me to meet her there, inside, that night."

"Why?" Zeke asks now collecting his thoughts.

I sigh. "She claimed that some people were looking for her, and she needed to go someplace she knew they wouldn't look for her."

"But…" Both Shauna and Zeke say at the same time.

"I know there's a lot she hasn't told me. I'm still debating if I should trust her. And she seemed far too pleased with herself when Tris went onstage."

"Do you think she and Tris know each other?" Zeke asks, back to munching on his fries.

"She would have told me." Shauna says, stealing one.

"What was it then that your mother said, that made you so angry?"

My fists curl and uncurl subconsciously. "Just what I suspected. That she still loved me, cared for me, wanted me to be her son, and..." There's a pounding in my temple. The last thing she said to me, the thing that really set my blood on fire, I don't need to tell them. Tris probably doesn't even know, and it involves her more than anyone. Tris should know, she should be told first. She'll tell them when she's ready, they don't need to know yet. "But she never once, said she was _sorry_."

Shauna looks confused, a part of me is grateful that Zeke hasn't told her my past with my _father_. Zeke however looks full well knowing. He nods his head and waves Shauna off when she shoots him a confused look.

"I have to find her and explain." I try to keep my expression from showing too much emotion. "Please."

Zeke looks to Shauna, and she sighs. Her shoulders straighten and she leans in close. "She's at Dauntless tonight."

"But tonight's the Hunk Night." Zeke says quickly.

Shauna and I both look at him. Shauna cocks an eyebrow.

Zeke pales a bit. "What? I was sent a flyer."

"Why were you sent a flyer to the male dancer night?" She looks as though she's trying to decide if she should be angry or dissolve into a fit of giggles.

"We went to one of them." I say for him.

Zeke begins to sputter as Shauna's face turns red. Again, I can't figure out if she's going to blow up in rage or laughter. "I was invited by Eric, we used to know him. I knew he was in charge of a club, and I just assumed there'd be girls there."

"Except you also had a great time that night." I add.

Shauna takes a couple deep breaths, and I decide she was holding in laughter. "At least you didn't come when _we_ were there. I wanted to be able to tell you in person."

"And I'm glad you did."

I watch the two of them look at each other almost longingly. "So I still need to talk to Tris."

They both look back at me. Shauna speaks first. "Zeke is right technically. Tonight would normally be the one night a month that male dancers are at Dauntless. And even if they weren't, our group doesn't dance on Fridays. We're Group A, dancing Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Group B dances Monday, Wednesday, Friday."

My stomach rolls violently for the second time today. "How many are you?" Two groups of six girls or so at Dauntless alone, how many others are there?

"In total? Or just at Dauntless?" Shauna asks.

"Never mind, that's not important right now." I don't really want to know if I'm honest.

"She's getting ready for tonight." Shauna continues. "They're doing something new, a collaboration night of sorts. Some female dancers, some male dancers. I assume they're pairing up for girl on guy dances and such."

Adrenaline spikes through my chest.

"No. Four don't go all jealous boyfriend on us now." Zeke stands and forces me to sit down on the stool next to him.

"If it helps," Shauna says, "She isn't in any danger. Not tonight. They'll be too many people, and odds are the male dancers are in the same position we are. Speaking of which." She looks over at Zeke.

"Yeah." He begins. "Uriah is dancing tonight, so maybe they'll be paired together? You know what kind of guy he is, he'd never hurt her."

It calms me a little, but not much.

"I need to go. I need to talk to her." I stand and turn to leave.

"Four," Shauna begins. "If she doesn't see you right away, give her a little space, and when you do talk to her, talk gently." Her voice lowers. "We want out, this wasn't exactly our choice and it's not like we can control everything that happens to us in this specific situation."

"Basically she means don't be your brooding harsh self." Zeke says shoving a fry into his mouth.

"Yeah, thanks Zeke." I can't help the small roll in my eyes, and he smiles back at me.

* * *

Since Dauntless didn't open till 9 tonight, I sat in the parking lot for a couple hours with the heat on contemplating my plan, changing it, ditching it, and changing it again.

I found a note tucked in the glovebox when I first got in the car from the Pit. Zeke's messy handwriting on a napkin, presumably from the Pit saying, _Lighten up twinkle foot. You of all people should know everyone has a secret. _He probably wrote it in a hurry, though I'm not entirely sure when he put it in here.

The line outside of Dauntless is huge and loud despite the cold and miserable weather. People of all sorts of backgrounds, men and women, wait to be let in. Then at 8:30, the doors open. I merge with everyone else wearing black in order to get in. There's a group of younger girls in front of me, none of them over five and half feet tall. The man at the front door stops them and demands identification. Upon closer inspection, they look like they could be 21, except their faces are caked in makeup, so it's unlikely. The group of girls are denied entrance and asked to step aside. One of the girls demands to see the manager. Everyone ignores them. The man looks back to me, marks something on his clipboard and lets me through. Another one of the girls has the audacity to claim I'm her boyfriend, and that we can't be separated. I don't even look back.

I've only been here twice, but I can't help but constantly feel trapped in here. The entrance to Dauntless is literally a coat room, and spiral staircase going down half a flight of stairs to the balcony, and then another floor down to the main gathering area. Lights are flashing everywhere, music is already playing and small amounts of fog are rolling off of the stage. Everyone is busy grabbing drinks and claiming tables. I stay back by the bar and grab a stool in the corner. One of the bartenders with thick eyeliner is watching me closely, and I honestly can't tell if it's a guy, girl, if they're checking me out, or just keeping tabs on me like I'm under surveillance.

After a half hour or so, the music changes. Everyone looks towards the stage. The moving lights dim only slightly, and the fog disappears.

The curtain begins to rise, just enough to show the legs of the dancers. The females in front, men in the back. My heart jumps in my throat as they begin to slink under the curtain. I spot her instantly, on the far left of the stage. Or I suppose to her, it's the far right. She's the first one the eye catches, reading left to right. Eric placed her there strategically. As much as I want to scream, I also want to watch her. The music is slowly building, and then the men follow the women. Shauna was right, their paired off, color coordinated and everything. It's then that I also realize, each couple is moving in sync with one of the various instruments playing. She moves to the drum. And every time it beats, a part of her clicks, a part of me breaks, and the crowd loses its shit.

Her friend Christina stands on the far right, dancing more to the flute, or whatever wind instrument that's playing the background. And then I see Lynn, dancing mostly to cello. I'm cold once more watching them.

My attention is brought back immediately to Tris though. The man with her has placed his hands on her hips, and my ears begin to ring. They turn their faces towards each other, and as much as it pains me, I can't stop watching. Their faces match in expression, neither happy nor upset, just a hard neutral. Both their mouths are open, and my nails begin to dig into my palms. But then things change and each couple moves into the spotlight for a brief moment.

When she moves into the spotlight with her partner, my entire body tenses. A sweat breaks out onto my brow as I follow her every movement, just as much as I watch his to make sure her partner doesn't do anything. Their little demonstration is slower, sensual, and it twists my throat. The way her eyes flutter closed and how her legs curl around him… I need some air.

I get up quickly and fly out towards the front door. There's still a line up around the block. It's only after I get a few gulps of icy air down my throat that I realize just how confining a place like Dauntless is. It sucks you up in a violent storm, without you even knowing what's happening.

"What's your problem man?"

"You couldn't take what's going on in there?"

"Have too much to drink already?"

Voices from people waiting in line only make me dizzier. I hear their words: weak, pathetic, sorry excuse, coward. And suddenly I hear Marcus's voice take their place.

A cold shiver shoots down my spine for reasons apart from the weather, and I lean against the brick of the building for support. My hands shake violently and I shove my arms across my body to hide it.

I focus on my breathing. One. Two. Three. Evenly in and out.

Once everything stops spinning, my hearing returns. The music has changed from inside. Someone is complaining about missing a dance, and another is trying to figure out which dance they're missing. A third person begins to list off the different individual dances for the night: Electric, Tragic, Lust, Envy, Haven. The music inside takes a turn and begins to sound violent, screechy almost. The group decides that Tragic is on right now, and they breathe a collective sigh of relief. They talk more, and agree that the ones they want to see most are Electric, and Lust – the 3rd and 5th dances.

Tris was wearing red. I can only guess that she and her partner are Lust.

I don't go back in until her dance time comes around. The bouncer doesn't even bother checking me out first. He just nods to me.

The music playing is the same as it was when I first walked in, they must be in between acts.

"Four." Uriah.

I turn around and look at him. He looks absolutely ridiculous. Black baggy pants with a vibrant blue zipper. Black suspenders with no shirt, and a blue bow tie. Not to mention the black eyeliner around his already dark gold eyes.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" He leans in close to my face, almost as tall as me.

"I don't know."

This makes him angry. "So what, you decide to spy on her after you rejected her? How sick is that?"

I feel weak. Sick almost. Shame coats me like a blanket I can't shake off. "I need to talk to her. How I reacted, it wasn't meant to be like that."

"Then how was it supposed to be, exactly? Because from the sounds of it, you reacted worse than Zeke did."

My hand rubs over my face and neck like it would help shake off the sickness rolling in my gut.

"Not to mention, neither you nor Zeke reacted this way when you found out about me. You were impassive as usual, and he was congratulating me. Now when you find out a girl you care about is in the same exact business, you flip your shit! How's that for a double standard?"

The music begins to change, slower and deeper.

I can't even look Uriah in the face.

"Snake! Come dance for us!" A group of women calls from downstairs. Uriah leans over the railing and waves to them, saying he'll be there in a moment.

He turns back to me and brushes my shoulder harshly on his way down the spiral stairs. "Get your act together Four, and stop acting like the age of your name."

I'm definitely going to be sick.

The lights are red and dimmed significantly when I see the stage, now watching from the balcony. The music is low, and the bass vibrates the railing and sends shockwaves through drinks resting on the tables. Once again I find myself transfixed watching her move. Her dancing is fluid, and she pulls to her partner, he pushes her, and they do the opposite to each other. My breathing is surprisingly slow, and deep, feeling the beat reverberate through my chest, it's intoxicating. Her mouth opens every now and then, and I try not to imagine her heavy breathing matched with mine. Her partner's hands are now on her hips, and travelling. I grip the railing harder and hear it creak. They're pressed up together once again, and I debate leaving, but my legs won't move. There's a look on his face that gives me the slightest bit of comfort though – it's protective rather than completely lustful as his movements are suggesting. It puts me a bit on edge, but also calms me. I then notice that he's not touching her in places Tris should never be touched, but purposely avoiding those places. But then the music speeds up just a little, and it throws my breathing and heart beat off, sending a wave of panic, or anxiety, or lust or something through me. Strategically getting the audience involved. Everyone has the same reaction as me. Their limbs begin to tangle, and I feel the jealousy rise up once more. They're so close, truly they are lust. The audience reacts accordingly. There's a final move of him pulling her towards him, almost violently, and the lights dim so we can no longer see the pair.

The audience screams for more. Begging almost. I feel the sickness rising in me once more. How could I sit there through something like that? Watching her in an intimate moment like that? But it's not intimate, not really. It's an act. Just an act. Only an act.

I dash to the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach. She does this for money. Dry heaving. She does this because she has to. I wipe my mouth and sit on the cold tile floor. How long has this been going on?

It's another couple of minutes before I get up on shaky legs to go and find her. Her individual dance is over so she should be free.

I spot her almost instantly by the bar, talking with Uriah. Uriah must sense me though, because he immediately looks over his shoulder and finds my eyes, narrowing them at me. Tris on the other hand doesn't spot me, just looks around in my general direction. She looks angry and begins to talk in such a manner to Uriah. She's beautiful when she's angry.

Dammit! This needs to stop. I need to leave. Not tonight. I won't do this tonight. I can't. I need to breathe.

Uriah takes a shot and walks towards my general direction, weaving in and out of people. Tris is left at the bar looking pissed, but slides into her character when a man approaches her. The muscles in my arms tense once more as I see just how _friendly _he's being with her, and he's allowing it.

I walk towards Uriah. He walks under the staircase and around a back wall. He waits for me to get there. "How long has this been going on?" I demand once I find my voice.

"Now you care? Why don't you say what's really bothering you?"

"Cut it out Uriah. Besides, it's not like she needs me to protect her with all these clients she has."

Uriah takes a step back from me. "That's what you're pissed about? That she's getting attention from other guys?"

My own voice surprises me. "There's always someone doting on her, or at least trying to. I don't want to just be another one of those guys to her."

"It's unwanted attention Four, it comes with the territory."

"Well she had a suiter at the Pit yesterday waiting for her."

Uriah sighs deeply. "Zeke told you that?"

I nod, remembering him telling me last night when he stopped by my apartment to try and rig some mistletoe on my ceiling. He wasn't sure who the guy was, but they seemed to know each other.

"She was worried about that." Uriah sounds upset, but almost like he was expecting that answer.

"She was?"

He looks at me with a stern expression. "You jump to conclusions too much before looking at the facts or bothering to find out information for yourself. That was her _brother._"

Brother. Her brother she only just mentioned the night I took her to the Chasm. I feel like an idiot all over again.

Suddenly I'm anxious for more information. "Shauna didn't say much to me today, but she did say they want to leave. Is that true?" I ask.

"I guess you'll have to be a big boy and ask her yourself. She wanted to tell you."

I ground my teeth.

"Jesus Four you're too stubborn. Fuck, but so is she." Uriah runs his hand across his head. "You do know she cares about you right? Even if she doesn't admit it, it doesn't take a miracle to notice the way she looks at you. And she would have told you if everything had gone according to plan. You just have the temper of a child apparently."

"Uriah." I growl at him, but he's not intimidated by me. Not anymore.

"You just need to go cool down. Go home. She'll tell you when she's ready, forcing it won't help. But you have to be open and willing to hear what she has to say without passing judgement. Now get out before I get you banned for getting grabby with their favorite dancer." He smirks at me and takes a step closer.

"I would think one of the girls is the favorite, they're more regular." I say back to him with less gruff in my voice.

He waves me off. "Please Four, I'd smoke all those bitches." He laughs and then walks off.

I don't see Tris on my way out. I don't see her partner either. Maybe that's for the best.

Outside of Dauntless the line has lessened, but two people do catch my eye in particular. George Wu is leaning up against the side of the building, and his and Tris's mutual friend Robert seems to be comforting him. George has his phone in his hand and looks completely white in the face. Robert on the other hand looks as though he's trying to understand what happened, or at least trying to get George to talk.

It begins to snow again, so I hurry to my car.

When I get home it's near 2 in the morning. And I find that Zeke has successfully hung up mistletoe in every room of my apartment. One also strategically placed above my bed. I don't bother with it, and instead kick my bed frame, because it feels like the right thing to do.

****And there's chapter 27 for ya! See you, hopefully, soon for chapter 28 (chap 28 will be a little smaller than the others probably, but I might find some way to extend it). I'm also getting super pumped for Chapter 29 – the Truth or Dare chapter. Alcohol included. If anyone has any suggestions to specific truths or dares that should be asked, feel free to let me know in the reviews section or by private message!****


	28. Chapter 28

****Hey babes! This is weird, me updating so soon after my last update. I'm not used to it anymore. But with more time on my hands, it's getting easier. I'm super excited for the next chapter to come, and I'll give everyone one more chance to suggest Truths or Dares they're interested in seeing from our characters! I do already have a table set up of who asks who what and what their response is, but I'm more than happy to fit in some more!**

**Hope everyone is having a wonderful and fantabulous end of June! Our weather here is so wonky. Some days is literally 50 degrees with sleet like rain. The next day its 77 and sweltering hot. Some people in my home town have begun to call June, Junuary. Oh well.**

**Notice the slight time skip**

**And as always, enjoy!****

**Tris POV – Wednesday, December 17****th**

Uriah has been blowing up my phone, mostly with ranting. He knows I won't respond until he calms down, so now he just texts me the thoughts running through his head. Marlene admitted to being a dancer after work on Friday collaboration-night. I think he had a feeling, but it was one of those feelings that you don't want to acknowledge because you know it could make you as easily as it could break you. Marlene confided in Lynn almost immediately after she and Uriah separated that night to go home. According to Lynn she had a slight melt down thinking Uriah would hate her, but he met with her the next day and agreed to everything.

And now, five days later, he's come in every day for the majority of our time at the Pit, sat himself at the bar and watched over her. He isn't here yet today, but he will be.

There is still no word yet from Four. I've stopped asking Zeke and Uriah. They both just give me a sympathetic, and slightly sad look. Shauna hasn't said anything either. And her eating habits have gotten worse. She's visibly put on weight, but her face is glowing. I can't believe she hasn't said anything yet. She knows we're not stupid, we can see what's happening. Even Uriah is looking at her differently. Zeke seems to be the only one still completely oblivious.

Myra is a bit chipper recently too. Shauna was the one to tell Myra about our plans to leave, over the weekend. Ever since the news, Myra has been happier, and acting much more like the Myra I knew in class than the one who started working at Dauntless. She's still a little skittish at Dauntless when it comes to dances, but she's improved. The money she brings in could be better, and with Eric's words of transferring still in my mind, there's a possibility she'll be transferred somewhere, less intense. Maybe Amity or Abnegation would be better for her. Then we'll have someone who fits the culture better, like Sapphire from Group B. Eric just likes to bring in new meat to Group A if he can't really decide where to put them – start them off at the most intense of clubs and groups and see where they land. A method of breaking them I suppose. It's happened a couple times before Myra; starting with Peter paying extra attention to her performance and how much she brings in, then she'll meet with Eric once or twice, and then she's gone.

Sapphire was actually at Dauntless last night while we were dancing. She never said what she was doing there, just that she was invited to "hang out" but never said by who. We could assume Eric, but Eric wasn't even there to confirm it.

The shots I've been receiving have stopped for the moment, for which I'm grateful. Though I'm not sure if I should be concerned more than anything. The physical effects actually wore off a bit, and some of the new bras Christina was so excited to buy me are now too big. I'm still not back down to my original size. My hips are still prominent, but I've noticed a little more flab around my gut – and it makes me happy. I've been extremely skinny my entire life, no matter what I ate. Working at Dauntless has put me in top shape, and yet, there's a new softness and squish to my belly. I woke up yesterday morning and really noticed it, and I couldn't help but smile. My mom always had a little extra around her gut – mostly from having my brother and me – and it always made her soft to snuggle with. I wrapped my arms around myself and sighed heavily, reveling in the new part of me.

The only thing really out of the ordinary today it seems, is Tori. She's here at the Pit speaking quietly with a man none of us recognize, she looks stressed, pained and frustrated. The man appears to be attempting to help her work through whatever it is that's bothering her, but comforting Tori can be like hugging a cactus. Based on the dynamic of his body movements though, it appears that he's helped her through a struggle before; he knows when to back down, when to push a little more, and when enough is enough.

Because Finals are over, and now public schools are out for Winter Break, the Pit isn't very busy. Christina is actually sitting in one of the booths with Shauna. Lynn is wiping down tables that haven't been sat at yet, Marlene in the back cleaning silverware, and Myra is running food out. Even Matthew looks bored, but he glances over at Lynn a couple times, longer than necessary.

"Why are you doing that?"

He glances over at me. "I'm trying to make an effort to show that I'm into Lynn." His voice lowers. "I have to buy her remember? We want it to be convincing."

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot."

Matthew smirks. "The night you, Lynn and Christina went to the collaboration last Friday, I made sure to complain to Shauna in front of Max's men how much I missed seeing Lynn. Describing her in a more feminine light than Lynn would ever want to be described in. It was dripping with puppy dog love. So much so, that I'm sure rather than punch me, Lynn if she had heard, would have carved her own ears out."

I feel myself smile a little, and the ice cave inside my chest has begun it's transition into spring.

"What were you thinking about before I came over here?" I ask him, leaning up against the counter. "You looked deep in thought."

"Chili."

I crinkle my nose. I never liked chili. "Why?"

He looks down at me. "Why is chili called chili? When I think of chilly I think of cold weather not food, so why are chili and chilly the same, but different? Chili the food is hot. Chilly the weather is cold."

A small bubble of laughter spills from my mouth. "You have way too much time on your hands."

"Uh-huh."

"Where's David?"

Matthew shrugs his shoulders. "Day off I guess. Maybe today is his birthday. Or maybe he was hit by a bus filled with tourists on their way to the pier. Either one works for me."

Matthew slides a plate of cookies across the counter to me. Cake cookies. Double chocolate. I give him a questioning look. He shrugs and nods over to Shauna. "They were requested by a glowing someone."

"You've noticed too?" I ask casually picking up a cookie.

"Hard to miss."

"Mmm." I nod in agreement chewing the cookie. It was made official the other day, that Matthew's Cake Cookies would be added to the menu at the Pit. "Matt, how much do you know about the male dancers?"

"Any one in particular?"

"Don't know his real name. Just his, alias. Slade."

Matthew pauses, eating a cookie himself. "I know who you're talking about. I'm afraid I don't know his real name, but I know a bit about his past. Why the interest?"

"I'm trying to take an interest in people who interest me rather than shut the world out. Isn't that what you told me to do?" I look at him through my eyelashes.

He scowls at me, finishes the cookie, then leans in closer. "Slade mostly dances at Erudite or Candor when the occasion arises. He wanted to be full time, but Max wouldn't let him. The reason for that, is because of his father. Don't know who he is, just that he's really important and apparently has connections with Max that Slade didn't know about, and as far as I know, he still doesn't. His dad didn't want his son being a dancer so he paid Max to only let him work part time."

"He was at Dauntless on Friday."

"I figured that was why you were asking. Anyway, from what I've heard, Slade has had a hard couple of years. Involves a girl. I don't know the extent, but they were together, something happened and she died, tragically."

The way Slade reacted to alcohol and Peter's comment suddenly float to mind. "It has to have something to do with drinking. He hates it, so maybe it was alcohol poisoning?"

Matthew gives me a pointed look. "Or there's the other obvious possibility."

"Yeah." The thought of Slade and I sharing a past of losing someone to drunk driving is actually rather comforting – just knowing there's someone nearby who understands. "So why did he want to be a dancer in a place like this?"

"I really couldn't tell you. From the sounds of it, he came from a loving home."

"Odd. What about the other girls? Know much about them?"

"Only what I hear. Give me a name."

"Sapphire."

"Ah," Matthew grins, "the spitfire of Eric's cold heart."

"They know each other?"

"No. But I know from recent news that Eric has taken a shining to her. Childhood was not nearly as nice as Slade's. She'll relate to Christina on that one, nasty piece of work her uncle was." I grimace. "Younger brother like Shauna and Lynn, but he's younger than Hector. Acts confident even when she isn't, like you." His brow crinkles. "I think her real name is a flower or something like that. I also know she's a hard worker. Got her GED at fifteen, joined here a year later for the income, and has been here, let's see it'll be two years sometime in January. I know she started at Amity initially, Joanna probably wanted to take her because she was so young. Then moved onto Erudite, but she wasn't sophisticated enough and had too much of a mouth on her, so she then moved to Dauntless and has been in Group B for the last 9 months."

I give Matthew my best interrogation face, which makes him smile. "How exactly do you know all this?"

"Eric's goons come here for late night drinks sometimes and occasionally leave dancers' files laying around. I'm good at finding information and no one knowing about it."

The oven beeps then. Matthew goes over and pulls out a fresh chocolate cake and sets it on the cooling rack. Then takes one that came out of the oven a half hour ago and begins to frost it. It takes him ten minutes.

"Be a doll and put this in the display case." He hands it to me, then winks.

I roll my eyes but take the cake. "Sure."

"IS THAT FRESH!?"

I nearly drop the cake as Zeke's voice comes from less than a foot away, eyes honed in on the cake in my hands.

"I didn't even hear you come in, Jesus Zeke calm down." My shoulder bumps his as I push past and walk over to the display case. "If you want cake just ask."

"I want cake."

He sits down happily in front of me. Uriah isn't far behind, his expression for the most part remains unreadable, and it oddly reminds me of Four. His eyes aren't on anyone though, he's looking for Marlene. "Is she not here?" He asks still not meeting my stare.

"In the back. I'll get her." I say moving from the counter.

Zeke stands suddenly. "But, cake?"

"No, don't." Uriah begins. "I don't want her to think I'm hovering."

My eyebrow cocks and the corner of my mouth twitches. "So coming to her work every day isn't hovering enough?"

"Well—"

"Cake." Zeke says once more.

Matthew laughs from the kitchen, and pokes his head out of the window. "Calm down dude. I have a fresher one that came out of the oven a couple of minutes ago. $20 for the whole thing if you want."

Uriah moves some napkins under Zeke's open-in-shock jaw. "For the drool. You're not dancing tonight, right?"

"That's the hope. Although with the holiday season rolling around, it's possible we'll be doing more unplanned dances. Christmas Eve is on a Wednesday which isn't a dance night for us, and Dauntless is closed on Christmas Day. The Pit is open though. Why?"

"A few of us are going to sneak in to the Hancock building tonight and use the Ghost Line."

"You mean that old Zip Line everyone claims is still there but really isn't?"

"Well there's one way to find out for sure." He smirks at me. "You brave enough?"

* * *

The Hancock building was surprisingly easy to break into. A broken lock on one of the underground parking doors that leads to the main stairway. It took us twenty minutes to walk the thousand some feet in elevation of the building. Zeke and Uriah leading the way as I expected. Christina is here too, along with Lynn and Marlene. There are some other faces too, some of the male dancers I've seen without their alter egos, and faces I don't recognize.

Christina decided that it was a good time to bring her camera and has been snapping pictures of everyone ever since Uriah invited us to come tonight.

The door to the roof is easy to jimmy open, and soon the wind is hitting us in the face. At 3:30 in the morning, Chicago is calm. The day's light snow fall has stopped, and there's a clear sky with a crescent moon. Many of the building lights are out, but the street lights make the ground look like its glowing.

"It's here!" Zeke jumps down from the vents and holds a harness in his hands.

"Found the line." Someone else yells from the opposite side of the roof. There were more harnesses laying on the floor, looking like they were dumped from a box into a nice pile.

"Is this even safe with below freezing temperatures?" Someone asks.

"Who cares?"

"Me first!" A younger boy steps forward. Sixteen years old maybe. Zeke helps him into a harness, and they get him hooked up, going head first.

"Remember to pull the brake at the end." Uriah says before double checking to make sure the boy was strapped in correctly. And then with a push and a scream, he was gone. Many of us ran to the edge to watch him, but he had disappeared into the night.

"Charcoal."

I turn around to the presence behind me and see Slade. "What?"

"My favorite color. It's a charcoal gray." He looks uncomfortable sharing, but I can't help smiling.

"That wasn't so hard." I bump his arm. "And you recognized me without my wig."

"Wasn't that hard." He grunts and then walks back from the ledge.

"Tris you're next!" Zeke shouts.

Anticipation and nerves suddenly flop inside me. I have no problem with heights, but the rational side of my head sees the snow covered buildings, ice on the road, and the freezing wind stinging my eyes. This line could easily break. Then again, what's life without a little risk? I smile and take Zeke's hand from his place on the ledge, realizing that he's not strapped in and could easily fall over.

Christina is screaming my name and cheering as the Pedrad brothers strap me in, head first. "This is your brake Tris," Uriah shows me a red handle dangling behind me. "Pull on it as soon as you pass East Grand okay?"

"Okay." My breath has left me and my voice squeaks.

When I was younger, I used to watch the birds play in our yard, then watch them soar high above whenever Caleb scared them away from his garden experiments. I wondered what it would be like to fly. This is it. I soar past the buildings, seeing my reflection in the ones that are too close; above the snow covered streets; the pier passes by and I finally find my breath. I smile wide, and scream loud when the zip line changes angle and suddenly dives downwards, jerking me a bit. My heart beats fast. I'd laugh if my chest didn't feel so crushed between my shallow breathing, the harness and the wind passing by.

I turn my head to see everything pass behind me, and the street sign for East Grand is suddenly behind me. Voices fill my head, yelling "Pull the brake!" I turn and see the target approaching. I'm coming in too fast. Frantically, my hand flies behind me, reaching for the bouncing brake pull. I yank on it hard, biting into my lip in the process. The harness squeaks painfully and sparks fly from the cable. The flying through the wind feeling comes to a halt and the target is inches from my face. People below me begin to cheer, and I cheer with them.

Unfortunately our fun was cut short. After the majority of us had gone, a police car arrived. Everyone scattered, and someone radioed for the Hancock Building to get lost.

Christina, Uriah and I bolted, all of us laughing. We sprinted through the snow and ice, slipping every now and then, and finally ducking into an alleyway near our parked cars.

We only wait a few minutes, but something else catches our attention. A couple of girls are walking through the alleyway across the street from us. They look broken, malnourished and sick. It's horrible lighting, but a man follows them out. All three of us freeze when we hear his voice. Eric.

"What's wrong with these three?"

"Shirley tried to run. Angel is pregnant. And Lady, well, I just don't like her anymore." A second man comes from behind Eric.

Eric seems to look the girls over. Uriah has tensed behind me, and Christina is watching wide eyed in a state of silent panic. One of the girls makes a moaning noise and Eric slaps her upside the head. She yelps. My entire body feels cold.

"I've already talked with EJ."

"That must be the manager of the Gutter." Christina whispers behind me. Uriah shushes her.

The man looks back at Eric. "And?"

"She's not interested in taking Shirley." Eric pulls something out of his pocket, and suddenly there's a bang. The three of us don't have time to cover our ears and recover from the echoing shock. The girl, Shirley, falls over against the building. "Apparently the Gutter has some standards."

One of the girls begins to cry.

"EJ will take Lady." Eric puts the gun back in his pocket.

The other man stands a little taller. "And Angel? She's not going to be very attractive or popular once her stomach begins to show."

Eric begins to laugh. "I think you of all people could make an exception to her. Just house her and work her at the bar. I know you've done it before. On multiple occasions over the years."

The other man begins to fume, I can see his clenched fists from here. "Max told you then?"

"Come on Marc, it's not that hard to figure out. You've constantly had the highest number of pregnancies among dancers here at Abnegation. It's not that hard to piece together."

He grunts roughly, picks Angel back up by the arm and thrusts her back through which ever door they came from. Lady on the other hand remains kneeling on the concrete, shivering, and weeping. There's a moment when my hearing finally stops ringing from the recently fired gun, that everything around me feels frozen. Eric, the man Marc and Lady seem to be still as though in a painting. I no longer feel the presence of Uriah struggling to hold Christina back behind me. Even the air doesn't feel as cold. It's a resounding calm that I've only experienced a hand full of times. But to feel it in a situation such as this? I was washed over with calm the time I almost drowned as a child, right before my dad pulled me out of the water; when I was in and out of consciousness after Caleb found me trying to swallow pills; and during my first dance at Dauntless when I knew I was Raven and confident in this new identity. All three occasions, I had made up my mind about something. To stop struggling; to stop trying; to stop feeling sorry for myself. Now, as I stared at the three of them moving back into the building, I had made up my mind about something else: We were going to escape this, and I was going to kill Eric Matheson with his own gun.

Christina and Uriah slowly come back into my line of sight, and they're staring in confusion at the scene in front of us. Marc Easton, the manager of Abnegation, hasn't gone inside yet. He stands outside of the back door, looking down at his feet, and taking deep breaths as if to calm himself. His neck is strained and his fists are still clenched. When he raises his head, I can see his face just a bit better, and my breathing stops.

It couldn't be. My dad's best friend?

I thought he'd died when his wife died.

Or at least moved away. He took his son—

His son.

Marc Easton. Clever, Marcus Eaton.

He had a son, with short brown hair and a ghost-like face.

What was his name?

Four. Four _Eaton_… They looks so similar.

What was his name?

…

…

…

Tobias.

****There's chapter 28! Told you it'd be a little shorter, now get ready for Truth or Dare, coming up in Chapter 29! I have no idea how long the chapter will be, but I imagine a good length.**

**Toodles! Please review****


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

****OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY! I'M FINALLY DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER HOLY CRAP! This took me a solid month to write and edit because guys…. This chapter is 17,374 words long! On my word document is was 35 pages! I could have EASILY split this chapter into three, but I wanted this to be the ultimate chapter! I have never written a chapter this long and I'm happy with the result! This is a chapter of kissing, underwear switching, shoe licking, and alcoholic dancing. And... THERE IS THE LONG AWAITED FOURTRIS CONFRONTATION!**

**IMPORTANT: This is another T chapter to which the original was M. This is the MODIFIED chapter - this version has less swearing and less description in some places (specifically a certain Uriah scene). ****So, I have created another M substitute for this chapter. The M chapter is the original one I wrote and posted in my Into the Night M Scenes story. Upon rereading it after initially writing, I felt uneasy putting it up as T so just to be safe I modified the M chapter and put this one up. M chapter is also posted for those wanting a bit more… M-ness. Again, I personally like the M chapter better but it's your preference. Large amount of alcohol use in this chapter, and talk of some inappropriate things. The T chapter holds nothing hard core, but it is T for a reason. Happy reading!**

**And thank you to one of the first reviewers for noticing my favorite color mistake! Ahh sorry about that :) it's now fixed****

**Tris POV - ****Sunday, December 21****st**

For the last couple of days, I couldn't think of anything but Eric, those Abnegation girls, the mysterious EJ in the Gutter, Marcus Eaton, and Tobias . . . They flash in front of my eyes every time I blink. It's so hard to picture how they all so easily tie in together. It's infuriating to say the least. Eric wasn't at Dauntless last night, nor Thursday. Sapphire was, and she too looked confused when Peter was in charge again. Where is Eric? My promise still stands with him, mostly. Christina saw a strange determination in me and assumed it was about locating or making up with Four, but eventually I told her my revelation. She told me there was no way I could kill Eric. At least not without getting caught or killed myself. So, in light of recent events I've decided that if I can't kill Eric Matheson, I'll at least shoot him. Maybe in the leg. Christina said she could live with me in jail, but definitely not dead.

Speaking of Christina, she is way too excited for this party. She started planning what she was going to wear a couple of days ago, then changing her mind all over. What's worse, is she was doing the same for me. She woke me up at the ungodly hour of 7AM, when I had fallen asleep around 3:30. I tried everything my tired body could do in order to push her away. Pillows, alarm clocks, books, they all went flying at her head. She just laughed and proceeded to dodge everything. Then she grabbed my ankles and yanked me from my heater blanket. I wanted to scream at her, but didn't for fear I'd wake the neighbors. She then chucked me in the shower, and for the next three hours, picked, plucked and brushed me.

I insisted multiple times that the extra effort wasn't necessary. Plus, I just wanted to go back to sleep. I had every intention of just going in a nice pair of jeans, long sleeve shirt, and call it good. Christina deemed that to be an insult as we haven't been to a real party outside of Dauntless in two years. And technically, we aren't even really outside of Dauntless. Almost everyone attending knows about Dauntless or works there. At least that's what Uriah told me.

"We don't even know if there's going to be dancing!" I complained as Christina had me trying on some of her old dresses.

"Dress your best Tris. You never know who may be watching. Plus, we still have a deadline to meet."

I scrunched my face. "Deadline?"

Christina smiled. Then I remembered.

"It's not going to happen Chris."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

"Why not? You're hot. Worse comes to worse, I'm sure Uriah could help."

"He's with Marlene! How could you even say that?"

She raised her hands up innocently. In each hand were two pairs of shoes. "I'm just trying to give you options."

"My answer is no."

"Maybe Matt could—"

"No! I am not losing my virginity to Matt, nor to Uriah, nor anyone else and certainly not before New Years!"

She became quiet. "You're still care about him."

I turned away from her and stalked back to my room, taking the dresses with me.

"Look I know you, and I know you don't let go easily. But after what he did, the way he reacted… He's not worth it Tris. I mean, look at Will, he took it so well."

There's a switch in my head that just about flipped – I was mere moments away from snapping at her: _of course he took it well, HE'S A DANCER HIMSELF!_ At current, I'm very impressed with my self-control.

My dad told me on multiple occasions that I got my hot-headedness from my mom. But my mom was the epitome of cool and collected. There was just no way. They both brought me up to remain in control of my emotions and my thoughts. To only really speak when spoken to, and to always be polite. Especially to elders. My mom volunteered every weekend at the homeless shelter for goodness sake! She never once raised her voice at me. How could she be hot-headed?

"Come on Tris," Christina whined from outside my room.

I was still angry as I open the door to her, but like most things in life that don't go my way, I swallow it down.

I let Christina have her way with me, and even found it hard not to smile at her constant moving mouth. Many people don't really care for Christina's nonstop talk and lack of filter, but I find it calming. Unlike the outfit she has me in now.

"Stop fidgeting you look good!" It's the second time she's had to swat my hands away from tugging on the skirt I'm wearing. It's an old one of hers that comes up mid-thigh and is an in-your-face blue. "We're almost there."

Christina finally agreed that I don't have to wear a dress, but I do have to wear a skirt and tight top. I just had no idea she was going to pick out a black crop top. I grabbed my gray cardigan for warmth before Christina could see. When she got to the car, I had it on and she didn't argue. The top itself isn't too revealing – only showing a few inches of skin, and coming up in a high scoop neck rather than low. The sleeves were long too. Shoes were a different story entirely – Christina was in charge of that department and I didn't have the nerve to keep arguing. Now, my feet are crammed into sparkly black stiletto sandals. My toes are also painted blue accordingly.

We arrive twenty minutes past eight. There was no fresh snow today, and the sun was out. Meaning tonight and tomorrow will hold plenty of ice on the roads. Uriah knew this was a possibility and offered to house us overnight. I initially refused. Christina accepted. I have no idea how many others accepted, or how Zeke and Uriah plan to hold us all.

Christina grabs our overnight duffle bag and leads the way inside, walking with complete confidence in heels on the icy sidewalk. I stumble a couple of times, and hope nobody saw.

The house is on the smaller side, but it reminds me of my parents' first house. The one I used to see in pictures with the two of them just after they were married. Caleb was born in that house. He was an unusually fast labor and by the time they had realized what was happening, he had arrived. I was slower, and they made it all the way to the hospital emergency entrance before mom could no longer hold back a push.

It's covered in snow, and based on the shape of the house, I'd say there's only one room upstairs. The downstairs looks lively – lights on in the windows, Christmas decorations up, and I can even see a couple people move passed the sheer curtains. The side of the house grabs my attention though; there's one large pile of snow – it looks like a snow plow going over the roads scooped its load and dumped it next to the Pedrad house – with a sign stuck in front of it that Zeke no doubt made reading "It's so _ICE _to be home :) "

The noise coming from the house already is unbelievable. Mostly from whatever music is being played. I suppose it _is_ a good thing that they live in the industrial area of Chicago. Barely any neighbors, except for maybe a homeless person or two.

Shauna opens the door for us before we reach the top step of the patio. She has a red cup in her hand, and it first worries me. Until it lowers just enough for me to see the contents: water.

"You guys are early." She says smirking at Christina.

Christina on the other hand balks. "We are not early. We were told to come at eight."

Shauna rolls her eyes. "Fashionably late is at least forty minutes late Chris."

"Everyone knows that." Uriah says joining us. "You ladies look nice."

"Nice?" Christina is just getting offended in rapid fire. "We look Hot Uriah and don't you forget it."

"Yeah yeah." Uriah waves her off. "I'll take your bag upstairs." He reaches out and takes the bag from Christina who immediately walks off in search of Will. Uriah almost stumbles under the weight of the bag. "What the hell does she have in here?"

I shrug. "I have no idea."

He grunts. "Drinks are in the kitchen. Make yourself comfortable."

While Uriah manages to get the bag upstairs okay, I take a moment to survey the room, and curse myself for looking for the exits first. There are three of them. Front door, back door, and sliding glass door on the side of the house.

Myra and Marlene are chatting about something by the kitchen, and both look enthusiastic. It's nice to see a carefree look on the girls. Especially Myra. Both girls are also dressed equally provocatively. Marlene in a strapless romper of sorts that would have reminded me of one of my Dauntless outfits, had it not been for it's hot pink color. Myra is in a two piece like my own, except her skirt is longer, but her top is higher.

Shauna who is running around making sure everyone is okay and has everything they need is dressed conservatively, but still nice. Lynn, who is lounging across the length of one of the couches is dressed similarly, except with tighter darker clothing. Not that I'm surprised, but it still sends a shock through me when I follow Lynn's line of sight and see she too, is watching Shauna like a hawk. And when her attention isn't on Shauna, it's on Marlene.

Zeke is over at the makeshift bar that consists of two coffee tables stacked on top of each other, a keg, a cooler, and a few bottles of gold and silver colored liquid. Not to mention the abundance of red plastic cups. A small jar also sits on the bar, with keys inside. Smart.

Christina drops her own car keys in and takes two red cups from Zeke.

"Will isn't here yet." She pouts slightly as she hands me a cup. The bronze colored liquid that foams and sloshes in my cup smells terrible. It tastes even worse. Christina laughs at my scrunched face, "Want a margarita instead?" I nod and she takes the cup from me. Beer was never my poison of choice.

She comes back in less than a minute with a cheap margarita mix drink for me. It still leaves a dry burning feeling, but it's more welcome than the beer.

We sit down on one of the floral print couches in the living room and listen to the loud music. Shauna joins us after a while and tells us that some people couldn't come till later, so we're mostly taking it slow for now.

I glance over at Zeke, who is on his third red cup since I've been here. "Slow?" I raise an eyebrow.

Shauna gives me a tight lip stare, and it's just at that moment that Will walks through the door, and Christina is up off the couch, spilling a little of her drink on the hard wood floor. Shauna goes to get napkins.

Christina and Will are all but making-out until she shoves him down on the couch next to me, then turns to go get a drink. Will had a momentary look of fright on his face before calming down. "Sometimes I forget she's strong," he mumbles.

I snort, feeling a little looser from the near empty margarita in my hand. I don't want to avoid anything tonight. It'll be good to see people, and honestly not have secrets. Which is why I turn to Will and ask him flat out, "Have you told her yet, Spike?"

His expression hardens at his alter ego. "No."

I get up to get a refill, suddenly not caring how much I have. "Don't wait too much longer." He doesn't reply.

Halfway through my second drink I start to feel the buzz. That weird adrenaline running through my limbs, slack jaw, fuzzy headed feeling that alcohol gives me. This time, I do everything I can to enjoy it. I dance to the loud music with Christina and Shauna. I even laugh loudly with Zeke a couple of times while we wait for everyone else. I have no idea how many people are coming, or when they're supposed to come. I try not to care too much.

By 9:30PM, Uriah gets visibly bored, until he shouts suddenly, "I'm not waiting anymore, it's time to play!"

"Play what?" Christina asks.

"Truth or dare. Or, as those of us in this hellish world of dancing can appropriately refer to it as, Candor or Dauntless!" How clever.

Myra who has been quiet most of the night nods enthusiastically. Marlene starts laughing and helps Will start making a circle out of the furniture. I sit at the kitchen island slowly eating some pretzel sticks. Because while I'd like to let go and have fun with my friends tonight, I can't ignore the fact that if I want to continue having fun, I need some food in my stomach, and water. I grab a bottle on my way to the circle. I'm still surprised my heels haven't hurt my feet. They haven't been worn all that much and the soles aren't even that comfortable.

I take a seat on the couch from earlier, next to the arm rest, and set my water bottle on the window sill behind me. Christina sits next to me, with Will next to her.

I grab Shauna's arm as she walks by after glancing at our smallish crowd of nine people, myself included. "How many more are we expecting?"

Shauna looks up at the ceiling, counting in her head. "Seven more." She doesn't give me names. I glance around at our space. We're going to need more furniture.

While Uriah and Zeke are struggling to move their make-shift bar closer to our playing field, Tori walks in which surprises me. Then almost immediately after Tori, Sapphire saunters through the door, followed quickly by an even more surprising Slade.

Lynn is now squished between Will and the other armrest of the chair, looking none too happy about the situation. Uriah brought down a rocking chair that Zeke now proudly sits in as though it were a throne. Slade sits on the floor against the wall, looking as though he were questioning his motives of coming. Sapphire is happily seated next to Uriah and Marlene on the smaller couch. And Tori and Myra surprise everyone by engaging in a heated conversation about carpet cleaners as they both sit on the floor with their backs to the kitchen.

"Alright! Let's begin. No use waiting on the others." Zeke states cheerfully. His words aren't slurred at all. "I'll start!"

"Who says you get to start?" Uriah protests.

"My house, my rules."

"_Our_ house, our rules."

Shauna looks ready to smack them both upside the head. "It's your _mother's_ house. Let's call her and see who starts."

Christina giggles at something Will whispers to her, as Lynn tosses Zeke his phone. Within seconds, the sound of the dial tone is on speaker.

Uriah suddenly pales. "Oh no. Zeke hang up!"

"Why?" He looks over at his younger brother.

"Ezekiel Pedrad there had better be a good reason you're calling me in the middle of my massage!" A husky woman's voice bites at the other end of the phone.

"H-hey mom. We were—" Zeke stammers. Uriah is motioning for him to cut the line.

"We? Uriah are you there too?"

"Just, um. We… never mind!" Zeke hits end just as his mother's voice begins to rise once more.

The room is silent, up until Tori smirks. "Your mother is getting a massage?"

Zeke and Uriah look at each other painfully. "No," Uriah says quietly. "She's giving one."

It starts with Marlene, the Christina, then Shauna, until just about everyone but the two brothers are howling with laughter. Tori just shakes her head smiling. Even Slade smirks.

Zeke stammers to explain, "She joined this online thing- they meet once a week… it's a bunch of old people, massaging other old people, all night."

Tears begin to stream down my face, and Christina complains that she's going to pee her dress. She gets up on wobbly legs and bolts to the bathroom, still laughing. My gut hurts in the best way, and my cheeks become sore from smiling.

"Okay that's enough!" Zeke yells, doing everything he can to look tough. It makes everyone laugh harder. Even Uriah starts giggling like a child.

Zeke tries again, this time getting our attention. "You! Dark haired chick!" He points across the room. "I don't know your name."

The girl in question is Sapphire. She grins at him with full dark pink lips, and piercing blue eyes. She twirls her slightly curled hair on one finger. "Who me?"

Zeke nods.

Her grin widens. Then she looks around the room. "Are we using real names now?" Her voice is almost shaky and unsure. It startles me, and reminds me once again that she really is just a child in this business. No matter how creamy her dark olive skin is, or how silky her voice is, or even what she wears, she's still only 18. Barely 18 by the looks of it. She could easily pass for any age between 15 and 24. A pit drops in my stomach at the honesty in her voice.

Shauna looks at the rest of us too. "Yes, I think it's okay. Everyone here knows everything anyway."

I sneak a glare over at Will, who is purposely avoiding my eyes. Christina doesn't notice. Maybe he really is perfect for her. No one else could keep this kind of lie from her for so long. That, or Christina isn't as good of a lie detector as she once thought.

Sapphire's sly grin turns to a modest smile. Her eyes soften, and her shoulders relax. "My name is," she swallows hard. "Elizabeth." She looks nervous now, and quickly adds, "But if you call me that your face will meet my fist. Just call me Lily."

Shauna nods approvingly.

Lily. Matt thought she had the name of a flower. He has better observation skills than I've ever given him credit for. I wonder what else he's noticed that none of us have picked up on.

Zeke's gaze travels over to Slade next, but Slade glares right back at him. Zeke shrinks in his seat and turns back to Lily. I guess Slade isn't ready to be anyone but Slade yet.

"Lily." The name rolls off of Zeke's tongue. "Truth, or dare?"

Lily's smirk returns. "Dare."

Uriah hoots. "Way to start the game right!"

"Hush up!" Zeke yells at his brother. "I'm thinking."

Uriah laughs. "Bullshit. You never think with this game."

"Shut up douche waffle."

A laugh bursts from my mouth before I can stop it. It must be the alcohol because at present, douche waffle is the best insult I've ever heard.

"Lily," Zeke regains control of his throne room. "I dare you, to get a tattoo, from Tori, right now."

My stomach rolls at the thought of a needle, even though I have two tattoos myself. Lily isn't fazed at all. In fact, her smile has widened.

Tori stands up. "I'll go get my stuff." She walks out the door, as Uriah and Marlene pull out a dining room chair for Lily to sit in under the kitchen lighting.

"What if someone doesn't want to do something?" Myra asks, much louder than I think she intended.

"You drink." Uriah says immediately and pulls out a bunch of different colored and shaped shot glasses. He pours scotch into each of them and sets them in a circle around the coffee table making it look like everyone has their own designated cop-out shot. He then tips his red cup to Myra and takes a swing. She smiles. Marlene bristles a bit at the interaction, and leans her head on Uriah's shoulder. I never would have taken her as one to be jealous.

"Speaking of drinking," Lily fills her cup from the keg. "I believe it's my turn." She scans our odd group. "Uriah. Truth or—"

"Dare." Shauna and Lynn say at the same time in an almost bored fashion.

Uriah nods happily. "What they said."

Lily smiles, once again raking her eyes over all of us. Her smile widens and she takes a sip from her cup. "Do a belly shot off of your brother."

Uriah pales for the second time tonight. Christina chokes on her drink, and Lynn begins to cackle. Zeke happily strips his shirt off and lays flat on his back in front of his brother, wearing a shit eating grin. "Come on little bro. Slurp it up will you?"

Lynn happily pours a small amount of tequila into Zeke's belly button.

"When was the last time you cleaned it out?" Marlene asks Zeke, while grinning at Uriah.

Uriah all but screams. "Don't you DARE answer that!" He makes some hand motions like he's calming himself down, which looks a little diva-ish to me. I try not to judge an intoxicated person too much when I myself am well on my way there. My initial buzz has gone, but my legs still feel like something is running up and down my bones.

Tori comes back in then. "Wait! I need to see this!" She sets her equipment for Lily's tattoo on the table and pulls out her camera.

"Really Tori?" Uriah whines.

She smirks. "You said nothing was off limits to cameras last time we played."

The last time Tori played with the Pedrad brothers? How long have _they_ known each other?! It seems I'm not the only one confused. Christina is moving her pointed finger back and forth from Tori to Uriah with a furrowed brow. Will puts his hand over hers to lower it back to the couch, and I hear him whisper, "Pointing isn't polite." She smacks his arm.

Al walks through the door then, mumbles an apology for being late, and seems to immediately know what's going on.

Tori, still waiting for Uriah to do the shot, walks over to Lily as she sets up and Lily points to a spot on her foot, then Christina blocks my view by leaning over Will to give me a look. "They invited Al?"

I shrug. "I didn't know he was coming."

She grimaces a bit. "I've always found him to be kind of like a creepy teddy bear."

Will smacks her leg. "Not nice."

Al goes straight for the bar, grabs a red cup that's half full and abandoned on the counter and moves to sit next to the couch, almost on my feet. I shuffle them away politely to try and make room for him even though there's plenty on the other side. He smiles at me as I sip my water. I've never found Al creepy I guess, but something is definitely off as he looks at me. There's an uncomfortable churning in my stomach, and the urge to move away from him intensifies. The last time I felt like this was with Professor Thompson – before what happened that is. It's not that extreme with Al, but the feeling is there, and I can't ignore it.

"Hey Tris."

"Hey Al."

"You look nice."

I'm about to murmur back a quick thanks, but I inhale a stink of warm booze on Al instead, rather than his usual lemon grass and sage. He's already had a few drinks before coming. The discomfort spreads to my chest, and I do all I can to push down the fight or flight feeling.

"I heard you were coming." His smile broadens.

My words are sticky. "Did you?" I glance at my water bottle's label, suddenly not feeling up to talking to Al.

"Yeah." He breathes on my knee and it makes me shiver. Maybe I should get up, just to stretch. Then I'll feel better. I hope.

"Is someone going to suck the liquid from my button of belly or what?" Zeke yells, mostly at Uriah.

There's a choking sound from the door. Matt is red in the face. "I honestly never expected to hear that phrase uttered in my life, but I'm suddenly glad it has been. Especially by you Zeke, I expected no less." Matt smiles as he walks over and takes Zeke's throne-like-rocking-chair-seat. "This is sure to be a memorable experience."

"Uriah's being a Pansycake."

"I am not!"

Shauna groans. "I thought you two outgrew that word ages ago!"

They both smile at her, then Zeke turns to his brother. "Now suck my belly." Tori also moves back into view, camera in hand.

Uriah grimaces, but does as he's told. He leans forward on his knees and soon a slurping noise fills the room. But before it's over, Zeke yells, "Belly bump!" And thrusts his hips high off the ground so his lower abdomen smacks Uriah in the nose. Uriah in turn growls and wipes his nose free of his brother's skin, then gulps down the rest of what was in his drink.

"Tasty Uri?" Marlene teases.

He growls again. "I should have done it as soon as it was poured. Instead I let it sit there for a couple of minutes soaking in his juices."

Everyone groans, "Uriah please, I don't need sensory descriptions!" Will exclaims. Tori snorts and Shauna gags.

I finish the rest of the water in my bottle, and get up to use the restroom. Passing by Tori and Lily, I can see an outline of sorts being drawn on the top of her foot and part of her ankle. It looks distorted to me, but then again I have been drinking. Alcohol is still swimming in my blood, and my cheeks and chest feel flushed accordingly. My jaw is less slackened now, but as I plan on having more tonight, I can expect that feeling to tenfold. Anxiety flares in the back of my head at all the things that could go wrong if I continue down this path tonight, and for once, I shove it all into a little box and tuck it away. I should let go a bit. I have that right. Besides, who knows how much longer I'll be able to live in such a carefree way with all my friends around me, even for just one night?

Upon exiting the restroom, I immediately go make myself another cheap margarita, with more tequila and less sugary mix this time.

Uriah has his gaze fixed on Christina, she must be his target. She's smiling widely, waiting for him to say something.

"Kiss the girl you'd go lesbo for!" He shouts triumphantly. "On the lips."

She must have picked dare. "Done!" Christina gets up from the couch, and strides confidently over to me. I'm honestly not that surprised. She's told me before.

The boys start to make catcalls at the both of us. Christina takes my drink from my hand, sets it on the table, then reaches up to push my wavy hair behind my ears. She takes time caressing my neck and jawline, then turns us sideways so everyone gets a side view. Her heels make her about four inches taller than me, but she still manages to lean down gently as though she's done this before. The room goes silent as Christina's lips touch mine. She doesn't push it, probably because Uriah didn't specify a kiss from making out, though he'll probably be disappointed now. Her lips are soft, unlike any of the kisses I've received from men at the club. Even the three women who have stolen kisses from me in my time there. And just to up the ante, I wrap my arms around her neck and release a noise from the back of my throat. I can feel Christina's shoulders shake with hidden laughter as the guys in the room start to react. But soon, she pulls away, winks at me in view of everyone and walks back to her seat. Then, just for shits and giggles, I lick my lips at her.

Zeke and Uriah are wide eyed, and both look slightly ashamed. Marlene is whispering teasing words to Uriah and Shauna is giving Zeke a look that can only be described as, _seriously?_ Matt smirks at us as he leans back in the chair, and Slade, surprisingly has looked away and closed his eyes.

"Well, that was one of the most fun dares I've ever done." Christina says casually as I take my place back on the couch next to her. Her arm rest seductively on my arm. "Tris honey, can't wait to get you upstairs."

"Anytime babe," I say lowly back at her. Warmth spreads in my chest as the others laugh, and I smile wide. This truly couldn't get to be a better night. I just didn't realize that we'd only _just_ started. Sure I'd played Truth or Dare before, but it's only ever gone barely one round with this size group of people, because everyone gets drunk or bored after a while.

Christina looks over at Tori, who is just about to start inking Lily. "Tori?"

"Truth," Tori says almost immediately, earning some laughs from the Pedrad brothers. There must be a story behind this.

"What's your biggest regret?"

Tori doesn't even pause before the words, "Nipple piercing" fly out of her mouth.

"No way!" Myra exclaims.

Tori looks over at us, "I'm not drunk enough for this," and takes a large swing of one of the silver bottles on the counter. Then suddenly she lifts her shirt. My tongue has swollen in my mouth and it seems others have too. Sure enough, she's pierced.

"I've worked with you for years and I never knew!" Shauna shouts at her.

Tori shrugs then begins to laugh, pulling her shirt back down.

"Doing anything later Tori?" Matt asks jokingly.

She replies sharply. "Not with you."

"If you regret it, why not take them out?" Marlene asks, actually looking interested. I wonder if she'd get one.

Tori takes another swing. "They get caught on everything, took forever to heal. But I leave them in cause I think they're cute. Now," She finishes her cup. "Marlene, truth or dare?"

Marlene leans back in her seat. "Truth."

Uriah smirks. "Pansyc—" Marlene smacks him upside the head, much like how Shauna does Zeke. I giggle.

"What's the worst crime you've ever committed?" Tori asks now paying attention to the needle in her hand.

Marlene thinks for a moment, running a hand through her hair. "Umm. That's a good question."

"Have you committed any crime?" Lynn asks with wide eyes. Marlene has the image of the perfect good girl. But that can be easily changed to the _school girl_ look one might find at Dauntless.

"Oh yeah. Lots actually. Pretty much all small stuff though." Marlene giggles to herself. "I would have to say the worst one, was setting fire to the hot dog stand on the pier when I was 12."

"I remember that!" Al says suddenly. "I was there that day, my dad really wanted a hot dog, but as soon as we got close, it was up in flames."

Marlene nods. "It wasn't that hard, just a little spilt lighter fluid from the burners and suddenly, boom." She laughs. "I actually burned myself a bit, right here." She shows us the underside of her arm, and there just as she said, is a shiny patch of skin like you would see on someone who had suffered a bad burn.

Uriah kisses her arm in that spot, and rubs the back of her hand with his thumb. The pair look at each other deeply. It's a look of love with no lust or longing, just full-fledged _I-care-about-you-your-pain-is-my-pain _love. I've shared that look with my parents, with Caleb before the accident, and now most often with Christina. It's a family love.

"Alright Marlene, pick someone." Zeke says impatiently. He just wants to be dared now.

Marlene smiles directly at him. "Shauna," she says then glances over at Shauna. Zeke is visibly disappointed. Shauna asks for a dare which surprises me, but Marlene doesn't push it. She dares Shauna simply to wear her bra on her head for the remainder of the evening. Shauna is the first of us to refuse a dare, even if it wasn't that bad. Zeke tries to push her designated shot on the table to her. Shauna picks it up and dumps it into her red cup. Marlene, Lynn, Christina, Matt and I are suddenly on edge. But clever Shauna, she dumps the drink into her mouth then pretends to gag and take a large swing of her water to wash it down, but she really spits it back into the water, smiles, then excuses herself to get some more.

Shauna then finally gives Zeke what he wants and gives him a dare. "I dare you to have a dance off, with Will."

Zeke stands immediately. Will looks a little nervous. "Do I have to?"

Christina is already giddy for the show. "You just haven't had enough alcohol. Here, drink." She shoves her cup in his face, and he smiles for her and drinks.

Matt starts the music after plugging his phone into the stereo system. "Front and center boys. Let's see what you got." Everyone looks interested now, even Slade. Lily and Tori are peaking in as well, pausing their tattoo session.

The music is low, deep, with drums beating so hard it could shake your bones. This is my music; this is what I like to dance to at Dauntless. The pounding helps me escape my reality. I can feel myself sway involuntarily, and tap my feet to the beat I would normally stomp on. Lynn dims the lighting.

Zeke begins his dance. It's awkward, and very uncoordinated. Many begin to laugh, but cheer him on as well. Uriah adds a catcall to his brother for good measure, and as Zeke does a 360 turn with his hips, he flips Uriah off. Marlene and Myra begin to dance to the music as well. Marlene keeps herself in check, but Myra is banging her head so hard I'm sure she's going to hit the wall. Once the song has ended, Zeke looks absolutely winded and red in the face, but purely happy.

Will steps up, and he glances over at Christina. He's going to actually dance, like he would if he were Spike right now.

His music is a little different. It's lighter, with more of a whistle to it in the background, but it still feels heavy, and masculine. Will moves his hips expertly, and I feel my own cheeks blush. He unbuttons his shirt slowly and begins to get hollers from some of us. He drops low when the beat drops, and is high into the air when it climaxes. His song ends abruptly, as he leans against the front door, in an effort to slide down it, but the door is thrust open from the outside, and knocks Will over with an unmanly like cry.

Christina giggles, but just moments ago her mouth was watering. Does she still really not know?

I'm laughing too as Will picks himself up, about to turn and yell at whoever knocked him over, but he stops and says "I don't know you. I'd feel bad yelling." Then he turns and walks back over to Christina, who hugs him tightly, bumping me as I try to drink my margarita.

I'm anxious to see who Will doesn't know though. I thought everyone here knew everybody.

The first thing I see through the door is a female with bouncy dark brown hair, almost black. She takes off her coat before turning back to the door. "Well come in. It's _your _friend's house." The alcohol in my mouth takes a sour turn. Her voice. Her fucking voice. There's only one person who could be with her. My stomach explodes into my chest and my cheeks flame. I long to release a long scream, and suddenly have the urge to cry. At least no one can tell, because my face becomes stonily guarded in an instant.

Nita.

Then, _he_ walks in, his back to the living room, to me. I can't take my eyes off of him, yet I really don't want to look at him. It'd be better if he just never came. Oh I wish he didn't come. Then again, I'm drinking tonight. I want to have fun. I can't let him ruin that. He's with Nita. So fuck it. Fuck him.

"You were so good Will! You could be a, _dancer_!" Christina shouts before kissing him. She almost knocks my drink out of my hand in the process.

"Chris," Will begins.

"Yes?" Christina's eyes flutter. Suddenly on top of everything, I feel like I'm hit with a truck. I know that look. That's Christina's _I'm giving you the chance to tell me the truth because I know you've been bull shitting me _look. That sneaky little chick. I snigger.

Will breathes heavily, staring at her. "You knew."

She sips her drink, pinky out. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Spike."

"When did you find out?!" He asks her hurriedly.

I smile at the altercation between them. I guess no one really can tell a lie to Christina. At least not for long.

"You sir are late!" Zeke is out of his seat as soon as he can be, after drinking so much, competing in a dance competition – which I think he lost – and pours Nita and Four, drinks of their own.

Four. That's not his name. His name is Tobias. Tobias Eaton. His father knocks up Abnegation girls and he helps kill those that even the Gutter doesn't want. I wonder why he goes by Four, more now than ever. Anyone with a dad like that, must have a gruesome past. Maybe I could really piss him off by calling him by his real name tonight in front of everyone. Embarrass him. Ridicule him. Make him feel as low as he did me. Then again, maybe his name is a really sore subject that could hurt him. I can't do that. Dammit!

"What'd we miss?" Four asks. His voice sending shivers down my back. And the word _we_ stings like a slap in the face.

Zeke hiccups. "Well for starters… Her name is Lily," he points over in Tori and Lily's direction, now halfway through her tattoo it looks like. "Shauna refused to wear her bra on her head, Uriah did a shot from MA BELLY BUTTON! Tori has a nip regret, Marlene set hot dogs on fire and I just CRUSHED William over dere at dancing." He hiccups again.

"Actually," Shauna says from the kitchen. "It was my dare, I think I should get to decide the winner." She smirks. "I think Will had you Zeke."

Zeke begins to stammer, sloshing the drink in his cup over his arm, and almost onto Nita's shirt. I'm sorry it missed. It's a pretty purple shirt, on her stupidly pretty face, with her delicate little prissy arm entangled in the crook of Four's elbow.

I down the last of my third margarita. My buzz returning in a frenzy, and I know I'm headed for trouble. "Hey Al," I say suddenly, "would you mind getting me another margarita?"

Al's face lights up like it's fucking Christmas, and he nods, immediately standing and jogging to the bar. My heart pounds a little heavier, and I know almost instantly that it's not from Four. Alcohol makes me slower, weaker, louder, dumber. I'm having too much again. I should stop.

Four walks over with Nita, not even noticing me.

I don't think I'll stop just yet.

He sits down across the room on another chair that Shauna pulled into our circle, and Nita sits at his feet. Why would he invite her anyways?

"Who's turn is it?" Lily asks suddenly joining us once more. The top of her left foot and part of her ankle are covered in a clear gloss. The design is a dark blue outline of an orchid, with little added swirls around the stem and petals.

"Mine!" Zeke yells from the kitchen. Soon he's racing back to our game, Al too. He hands me my drink, filled almost to the brim. I smile widely at him, and he returns it. Sitting once more at my feet, well, now he's actually on my left foot. Not like I can feel it anyway, my feet have gone numb from the heels.

I glance over at Zeke to see he's scanning the room, and I happen to notice that Four is staring into his own cup, across the room from me. He doesn't pick his head up at all. Nita however, is looking over at me. I can't tell if her look is a glare or curiosity. My vision is slowly becoming near sighted.

"You sir, of the unknown origin, are next!" Zeke shouts with minimal slur, pointing directly at Slade. Slade who has remained quiet this whole time, cracked a smile once or twice, whose favorite color is charcoal gray, and is still sticking to only drinking water. I'm suddenly surprised he's even here, with all the alcohol around him, I'd have thought he'd gone running. Then again, that's only based on what I've heard about him and my one experience having alcohol in his presence.

Slade nods to Zeke, and before Zeke can ask, says "Dare."

Zeke looks pleased with himself. "Sir, I dare thee to remove thy shirt. So that all the world may see thy glory."

Slade looks over at the alcohol for a moment, but in the end, reaches over his head and removes his blue shirt. However, before any of the girls can gawk too long, he pulls on his gray jacket and zips it up to the neck. It's smart of him, and I can't help but giggle. The scar on his chest looks less prominent in florescent lighting rather than the backstage black lighting at Dauntless. But it's still an ugly scar, and I really want to know what happened. If my theory that someone he cared about was killed by a drunk, driver or not, I suppose it's possible he was with them and was injured as well. Or maybe he's a masochist.

Zeke has begun to pout at Slade's loophole. Slade wears an impassive face right back. At least it's not a glare.

There's a tickling sensation on my ankle. Al has begun to rub it, consciously or not.

"Tris." Slade's voice catches my attention. His brown eyes lock onto mine. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth." I smile back, sipping my drink once more, and almost choke on how much sugary mix is in this margarita.

Slade continues to stare at me now in silence. I find it almost impossible to look away from him, yet I also don't want to. I know it's crazy, but it almost feels like Slade is trying to communicate with me about something. His gaze is not sultry, nor lustful, or loving. It's rough, captivating, and comforting. A look that family shares after fearing they would never see each other again. It's so intimate it's terrifying.

His voice breaks my trance, "What's your favorite color?"

"Moss green."

The corner of his mouth smirks up, but dies quickly as he nods and finally ducks his head away.

Everyone in the room is quiet. All eyes on Slade and me. Even Four. He stares at me with an intensity I couldn't put to words. I can't read his expression, and it irritates me.

Nita on the other hand, looks fairly happy, sipping on her drink, her hand now resting on Four's leg. Four either didn't notice or doesn't care. And _that _pisses me off even more. Her bouncy dark hair is rolled up into a side bun tonight, and her eyes are lined heavily. What I wouldn't give to see her in a position at Dauntless. Just to see her fail. In fact…

"Nita," I say leaning back in my seat, my voice going high at the end of her name. Must be the sugar.

She looks actually surprised that I called her name. "Yes?"

"Truth or Dare?" Please pick dare.

Nita pauses, and almost looks unsure of herself, before giggling and answering. "Dare."

I don't pause. I don't falter. I don't give myself any chance for second guessing. "Give Four a strip tease."

Everyone's eyes nearly bug out of their heads at my tone. My conviction. Zeke and Uriah give a small holler and snicker until they too actually realize – especially Uriah – what exactly I'm doing. If Four wants Nita, he can have her. But now he'll know that she can strip and dance sensually just like me, except I get paid for it. I'm certified to be great.

Nita on the other hand, looks unsure of herself now more than before, and her face turns a bit white. I enjoy every second of it. She casually gets up and looks at Four. I hope she sucks.

Zeke looks dangerously close to snickering at the discomfort on her face, but Uriah is the one to smack him out of it this time.

Matthew hits Play on the music.

She begins to move around Four, circling him, dragging her hand across his shoulder every now and then, and leaning over him. Her moves are sloppy, jagged, and not at all natural. Just as well, Four looks every bit uncomfortable as I'd hope he'd be. He's leaning so far back in his chair, he might tip it over, and his face is contorted in confusion and dare I say it, despair. His shoulders tense, and a heat builds in his neck and travels up his ears, turning the corresponding areas a flaming red.

Christina looks over at me as Nita takes her jacket off, revealing that her pretty purple shirt is backless. "What are you doing?" Christina asks in small tones.

I shrug. "Playing the game."

Four glances over at me quite a few times, and from the corner of my eye, I take pleasure in the fact that he's not enjoying himself at all. I could do way better than Nita. And Four knows it.

Nita only goes for another ten seconds before blushing furiously and sitting back down and slamming a shot. The entire show was awkward from start to finish. She only ended up removing her jacket, and her socks. I can't help the feeling of guild dueling the feeling of victory in my chest. But they both lose out to the floating feeling of alcohol.

Apparently, Nita doesn't like eyes on her, as everyone is still staring at her and she shakes like a leaf. She quickly points to Will, and earns a glare from Christina. Will however, is a nice guy, and immediately says "Dare" before she can ask.

Nita looks around the room wildly, until her eyes land on the kitchen. "Do a shot of salsa verde."

Will does the shot, and retches once or twice into the garbage can. This earns him a large cheer from the Pedrad brothers.

Four is still glaring at me, even when Zeke bumps his shoulders enthusiastically. Nita is still red in the face.

Will then goes on to keep the theme of edible dares, dares Myra to eat a spoonful of cinnamon. Myra, looking more and more like her usual self every day, politely refuses and does a shot instead. She then proceeds to tell us that she did that same dare when she was younger, and ended up puking for the next couple of hours.

Myra also seemed to have picked up on the tension between me and my former T.A. and picked him as her target.

"Dare." His husky voice affects me more than I'd like. I'm supposed to be mad at him. I drink more alcohol, feeling as though I've hit a plateau.

Myra gleams. "I dare you to bake Zeke a cake."

Zeke is up on his feet in the next instant. "YES I FULLY SUPPORT THIS DARE!"

Four looks a little taken aback at first, but agrees reluctantly after taking a shot himself. Zeke has his arm looped in Four's and is practically skipping him to the kitchen. Everyone begins to laugh, including myself. This is what they must have looked like when they were at the Male Dancer Night at Dauntless last month. When everyone thought that Zeke was a frilly little thing of a man and Four was the brooding boyfriend along because he wants to keep Zeke happy. Well, that's actually pretty accurate as they are, except for the boyfriend part.

"Hey Tris," Al says from my feet, louder I think that he intended. "You're really pretty."

"You already said that," I shrug at him, but nod in thanks.

He stops rubbing my ankle, which had gone numb from his hands on it. "No, I mean you're _really_ pretty."

A swarming feeling fills my gut. Al is drunk, really drunk. He wouldn't be saying this if he hadn't been drinking. "Uh, thanks." I shift in my seat to sit up a little straighter, and pull my skirt down a little farther, pushing my legs together a little harder and scrunch my face. At Al's eye level, he could see straight up my skirt. Cold air drapes over my shoulders and my skin prickles. I cross my legs suddenly, as he seemingly didn't notice his advantage. I don't help the situation at all by continuing to drink the alcohol in my hand.

I glance over at Christina, but she is fully engrossed with Will, whispering about dances to come between the two of them.

Al's hand begins to travel up my leg. I flinch harshly, almost kicking him in the face. His expression turns sad, like he didn't understand what he did to deserve that reaction out of me.

"Al!" Four's voice booms out across the room. Everyone glances up at Four who is currently stirring something. "Go sit outside."

Al begins to whine. "I didn't even say if I wanted a dare!"

Four glares at him with steam almost rising from his head, and Al reluctantly gets up. Swaying side to side, I'm almost worried he's going to fall over, but he makes his way to the door in one piece. Before going outside though, Al turns back to us and calls Marlene's name.

"Dare." She says through her cup.

Al giggles like a child. "Switch underwear with Uriah."

I feel silent relief when Al is outside, and refuse to look at Four for thanks. His eyes flick to me every now and then, but he says nothing more while he works on the cake.

Marlene on the other hand looks wary at Uriah, but he's all for it. They both excuse themselves to the upstairs, and come down a minute later. Marlene walks just fine, but has a scrunched up look on her face, and her cheeks red from laughing. Uriah comes down next, and he hesitates with every step. One hand is fixed on his butt and the other on his frontal male area.

"My God Marlene! How do you wear this?!"

Marlene snorts again, and immediately covers her mouth with her hands. "I thought you'd be used to it working at Dauntless."

"None of my thongs are this tight and this thin!"

Christina and Will begin to laugh as well, and I feel myself smile. Zeke on the other hand walks over to Uriah, almost inspecting him. "How thin?"

Uriah sniffles. "The boys are hanging out. And Mr. Snake barely fits. He's squished!"

"Mr. Snake?!" Lynn gapes.

"No, no no no no!" Shauna covers her ears like they were bleeding. "That is NOT something I needed to ever hear!"

Lily on the other hand is smiling like a cat, "So that's how you got your name." Her eyes rake him up and down once more, like the first time I met her. Marlene notices and scoots closer to Uriah's position.

Nita, sitting on the floor just beside them, glances over towards the kitchen. I find my eyes traveling that direction too, up to Four. Nita would just barely be able to see him from her angle, but she sighs and smiles all the same. Four is currently finalizing the batter mixture and adding in a little more flour. I have to stifle a laugh when some of the flour he stirs in spits back at his face. He looks absolutely ridiculous. He even put a blue apron on. The sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to his biceps and the concentration written on his face is almost malleable.

He picks his head up a bit and pours the mixture into the cake tin. I look away before he can feel my eyes on him, and finish off my drink in a rush.

It takes Uriah a solid five minutes to sit down on the couch comfortably. Adjusting as he does. Marlene teases and coddles him at the same time. "You should be honored. You're the first person to wear my underwear and the last person to ever wear that specific thong."

He grumbles at her.

"Okay," Marlene claps her hands together, "Zeke,"

Zeke leans back against the wall, a cocky smile on his face. He's been called on twice now while others haven't been called at all. He must be feeling good about himself. "Dare."

Marlene smiles. "Paint your finger, and toe, nails blue."

Zeke doesn't miss a beat. "Christina!"

"Dare." She smirks, seeming to know where this is going.

"Paint my nails blue." He then proceeds to march into the other sitting area that I can only assume is the dining room and comes back with about five different shades of blue nail polish. "I am at your mercy. Be kind and do me proud."

Christina snorts and kneels with him on the floor sorting through the colors determining which pattern would look best, or they could do individual designs, and either way it had to be perfect, and oh! where was the top coat, or even a base coat would work.

I took the opportunity to stretch out a bit on the couch now that Christina was on the floor. Will got the idea too and soon we were shoving back and forth trying to get space. Eventually, I ended up with my feet over his lap. "Christina says you give good foot rubs."

Will almost turns red. "Well, I, uh, guess, um I could try."

I have no idea if he actually gives good foot rubs, but I figured Christina had demanded it at one point or another, so I just went with it. But the shade of red he turned, I'm assuming it was most certainly something within the sexual boundaries that couples experience. Or so I'm told. A neon sign of Christina shouting "VIRGIN" at me in my head blossomed just then, and I felt my own cheeks redden.

"Can I come in yet?" Al shouts from just outside. Lynn and Lily snicker as Four immediately says "No." through the door.

Myra sways as she stands and giggles at herself when she trips a bit. Will is currently trying to remove one of my shoes. "Grab me another beer!" Matt shouts as Myra makes it to the kitchen.

"Me too!" Uriah shouts.

Myra nods, but suddenly pales and dashes for the bathroom. The sounds of her retching fills the room with a sudden disgust. I wouldn't call myself a sympathetic vomitter, but the noises don't help at all.

"Never mind then." Matt says as he stands.

I grab his arm as he passes. "Grab me the vodka bottle."

He nods, but looks slightly confused at my request. He and Four both come back to the room then, as Tori gets up to go check on Myra. Matt hands me the bottle, "They only had vanilla vodka left."

"That's fine," I say as I take the bottle.

He gives me another look. "You're really going for it aren't you?"

"Might as well," falls from my mouth after my first swing. I need to be careful or all my thoughts will start pouring out without my say so. It's only happened twice, and both times were times I only got tipsy. If I'm going for drunk, who knows what will happen.

The buzzing in my brain intensifies after my next swing and a rush of warm air floods my throat and through my nose. Happens every time with vodka. My fingers start to feel numb and my lips smack together. Will laughs at me as his fingers dig into the soles of my feet, now free of those horrible shoes, and I sigh loudly in relief.

Four is looking at me. Staring is more like it. He looks concerned, confused, and almost angry, though I can't tell at what. This time I stare right back, and even raise the bottle to him.

"Christina." Shauna says, "It's your turn."

"Oh right!" She picks her head up from Zeke's toes, which must not smell that bad. With the lightest of the blue polishes in her hand, she points to Lynn.

The door opens and Al crawls back in. I roll my eyes and pray he doesn't come over here. His lips are blue. Christina notices Will rubbing my feet, and Al's less that subtle entrance.

"Dare," Lynn says nonchalantly.

"Sit upside down for an hour. If you have to come down before the hour is up, you must spend the next hour rubbing Al's frozen feet."

Lynn gapes at her. Al on the other hand looks rather pleased. Lynn could easily pass out after an hour of sitting upside down. Lynn almost looks towards the alcoholic shots that have gone mostly untouched. She would be the third person tonight to refuse to do something. It's actually quite impressive how long we've all gone. It's nearing 11:30 now, and I can still see the clear night sky through the window.

Zeke and Uriah (although uncomfortable) are itching to call her a Pansycake. I can see it on their faces. I wonder if there's an actual recipe for it. Maybe that's what Four is making right now.

I giggle to myself. Will gives me another odd look, Shauna does too but I ignore them and take another drink.

"Matt," Lynn asks as she moves to sit upside down on the couch.

"Truth," he answers smiling.

Lynn smirks upside down. "You a virgin?"

Matt pauses for a moment, but has no shame in his answer. "Yes."

I certainly wasn't expecting that answer. It seems others weren't as well. Christina's hand slips on Zeke's nails and she cries out in frustration.

Uriah begins to giggle, "Dude…"

"Missing out," Zeke says and winks at Shauna. Her face flames.

"Can we do a virgin count?" Uriah asks.

"Okay!" Zeke shouts, answering happily for everyone. "Room wide truth time. You must take a shot if you're not answering. All those who are virgins raise your hands."

Al's hand goes up almost instantly, as if he's pleased with himself. Matt's hand goes up as well. Lily, surprisingly also raises her hand. Then again, she's only eighteen. Myra and Tori are still in the bathroom so we'll never know for sure, though it can be assumed based on what I know of both of them that they're not.

"Now raise your hands if you lost that puppy."

"Please don't refer to virginity as a puppy." Marlene groans as her hand goes up. Followed quickly by Lynn, Shauna, and Zeke's hands. Christina and Will both raise their hands shortly after. Nita also raises her hand, looking completely embarrassed. Slade too, raises his hand. I thought for sure he would take a shot on this one. Then again, it's alcohol. . .

"Wait a minute!" Matt says quickly. "Two people in the room haven't raised their hands." His voice is almost song like. "And they haven't done shots either." I feel like had this conversation happened a couple of months ago, I would have punched Matt for singling me and my sexual status out in front of people. Now, it doesn't bother me as much. I can't decide if that's progress at being more open or not.

All eyes land on Four and I.

I shrug my shoulders and reach for the pre poured amber liquid still in the middle of the floor. I tip it to Four while not really looking at him, and shoot it quickly, gasping at the dry burning after taste. Scotch has never been my favorite.

He follows my lead and downs his own shot quickly. There was less grimacing on his part.

"Wouldn't it be cute if they were both virgins?" Lily asks while drawing patterns on the carpet and looking at the two of us with half lidded eyes.

"They could be each other's firsts! It'd be so fairytale like!" Marlene claps her hands and squeals.

"There's room upstairs!" Uriah cheers almost as if he were invited.

Four's face reddens and I just laugh at the fact that we're even having this conversation. But the redness in his face makes me question, is he actually experienced at all? He could either be embarrassed at lack of experience, or ashamed from experience. Nita looks a little confused as well.

Shauna looks over at me. "Wait, Tris I thought you lost it on your birthday a couple of years ago."

"Oh yeah I remember that!" Lynn shouts happily from her upside down hang. "That was the loosest I've ever seen you outside of work. What was the guy's name?"

"Edgar." I finish for them, smiling.

"Right, so did you?" Lynn asks.

I take another swing. "Guess you'll never know." Then laugh, partially at their expressions, and also at the grave look now on Four's face. That's right Four, other guys have been near me. Close enough where even my friends thought I'd sleep with them.

Only Christina knows the truth. Edgar was nice and handsome, I had just turned nineteen, and he was in his twenties. We danced, we drank, and I considered giving it up to him when we got back to Chrsitina's and my apartment, but he passed out on the couch almost instantly after walking through the door. I was disappointed (and under alcoholic influence) at the time, but the next morning through my slight hang over I was happy nothing happened. It actually scared me at how easily I was willing to participate in such an intimate act with a guy I'd probably never see again. Every time I've thought about it since, it's continued to scare me a bit.

Maybe Four would be different? No. _Tobias_ would be different. He's already proven his interest in my mind and who I truly am behind my looks and physique. He watches me like a specimen to be examined and I find that his attention is more often than not, intoxicating.

Maybe I just never wanted to really admit it to myself. Maybe I didn't really understand my own feelings.

I don't want to hurt him.

My smile dies, and a weight settles in my chest. I take another large gulp of alcohol and instantly regret it. Alcohol can make a person looser, but it can also drown you in your own sorrows. It multiplies my feelings and suddenly I can't decide which I want to do more – jump him, or cry over him.

"So in this moment of silence, I would like to continue by selecting my next victim," Matt says gleefully. He looks over at me, and his expression softens just a bit from his large smirk. Then he winks. "Nita."

Nita's head pops up and she looks instantly nervous again. At least I can still smile at that.

"Dare."

Matt taps his chin as if in thought. Then Zeke who still sits next to him, puts a hand over his stomach and a large grumble floods the room. Uriah begins to laugh. Shauna gets up and brings in the last of the food we had set out.

"I dare you," Matt watches as Zeke and Uriah practically devour the snacks. Four's cake only has about 15 more minutes in the oven, but then it'll have to cool before the frosting is applied. It starts to make my mouth water with the smell of said pastry beginning to fill the room. I don't know what flavor he made, but it smells delightful. Zeke on the other hand has picked up on the scent too and continues sniffing the air madly.

Matt once again looks at the food, then back to Nita. "Order us some pizzas, then make out with the delivery kid, as long as they're legal of course."

Nita seems pleased with the dare. It's easy enough. What irks me though, is when she looks to Four as if needing his permission in order to complete the dare. He doesn't even acknowledge her. His eyes are still downcast at the floor.

She puts in the orders a couple of pizzas from the nearest pizza parlor, which to our dismay, was called Papa Max's Pizza. No association with our boss, but everyone still cringes then laughs awkwardly. Shauna and Marlene begin an animated conversation then about what Max might look like if he were Papa Max in the Papa Max's Pizza logo, and Lily ends up spitting some of her drink out at their description of him in not but an apron with a large black mustache.

"While we wait, am I allowed to ask someone?" Nita asks, again looking towards Four.

"Be our guest." Uriah says eagerly. I think he just wants to get picked now to redeem himself from doing a belly shot from his brother and being involved in Marlene's dare of switching underwear. The latter of which he seems to have gotten used to now. I make a vow to dare him next if I ever get picked again.

"Tris." Nita says suddenly. As if I had seen it coming.

"Truth." I slur slightly back at her. Even though I'm one of the lighter weights when it comes to alcohol in the room, I've had plenty to put a normal person on their ass. Plus I don't want to get up. Will only just moved his hands to massage my other foot.

Nita's eyes narrow. "Have you ever done the walk of shame?"

I bark out a laugh. "You just reallllly want to know what happened to my chastity, don't you? Have a crush on me Nita?" My voice drawls, but it earns me a few chuckles in the room.

"I asked the question, you're supposed to answer."

I wave my hand at her dismissively. She's smiling now. She's trying to discredit me in front of Four. He tensed slightly at my name being called, and shivered at my voice, yet he still doesn't look at me. I must have some insane power over him. It makes me feel good again.

I lean over on my side, and rest my head on my arm looking at her. "Fine. What counts as the walk?"

Nita looks confused. "What do you mean what counts?"

Lily pipes up then, "Could mean anything physical really. Just that you walked home the next day, in partial shame wearing the same thing you did the night before or in someone else's clothes. Nights coming from Dauntless don't count."

Nita settles for this since she doesn't find anything else to say.

I smile at Nita. "Not yet."

Some of the guys chuckle. Christina widens her eyes at me, and smiles in anticipation. I just nod to her and she claps her hands. Only then I realize that I just promised Christina that I would do a walk of shame, which means I'll eventually spend the night with a guy and return in his clothes or my own from the previous evening. Which in Christina's mind means I'll finally have sex. Joy.

Nita on the other hand looks a bit ruffled at my answer, and narrows her eyes when my own flick to Four of their own accord. She scoots a little closer to him, and I smile knowing I can make her insecure and jealous, even when I'm not even a threat.

I don't want to keep the silence going for too long though. "Uriah."

He practically glows. "Dare."

"Fantastic. I dare you to jump off of the roof into the snow pile on the side of the house in nothing but Marlene's underwear."

Uriah's face falters at first then he begins to grin. Downs two shots and bolts up the stairs.

"QUICK!" Zeke yells jumping to his feet with remarkable speed. "GET OUTSIDE OR HE'LL DO IT WITH NO WITNESSES."

Everyone who is not piss drunk (meaning Lynn who is also still sitting on her head impressively and Al mostly) gets up quickly and rushes outside. Almost not fitting through the door. I glance towards the bathroom on my way out, and the light is still on under the door. Slade even comes with us. Tori is going to be sorry to miss this. Myra too.

Four and Nita hang back slightly inside, and in the midst of everything, I forget to put my shoes on.

My feet sting instantly as they hit the cold cement walk way. I cringe and pray the warmth of the alcohol flowing through my blood will be enough to keep me from losing my toes.

I look up just in time. Zeke is howling with laughter and so many others join in. Shauna is busting a gut, and Marlene looks just a bit mortified that it's her underwear currently displaying Uriah in all his glory.

I've seen the full male physique multiple times. But Uriah is something else. I didn't pay much attention to it at Dauntless, and now I realize what a mistake that was on my part. He's very handsome. His hands clench and unclench from the cold, and his teeth visibly chatter together. I almost feel bad for him.

"Go URI!" Zeke shouts. Lily whistles loudly.

Uriah looks over at the snow pile. The top of the mound is only three feet down from his location, but I think he's hesitating because of how cold it will be once he's landed inside the mound.

"Okay!" He yells back, sounding very unsure of himself. Then, he covers his junk and leaps.

Almost instantly he's swallowed by snow and it reminds me of a clip off the internet where someone jumps into a small puddle and CGI makes it look like they fell all the way in. It was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen, and now I have my own real life version. I will forever have that in my head, and I'm grateful.

Uriah bursts through the pile of snow and looks like a brownie coated in powdered sugar. It only makes me laugh harder and makes me hungrier. His hands never leave his junk. "AHH." He looks over at my, eyes wild with survival.

I shrug between breaths. "Sorry dude." It's the first time in a long time I've said the word 'dude' and it feels weird.

"Uri, get into the house before you freeze your potential spawn to death." Matt slurs, and then snorts.

"FUCK."

Zeke moves over to his brother then and whispers loud enough for all of us to hear, "Ice ice bab_ies_."

He yells again and scurries into the house.

"His vocabulary seems to be very limited at the moment." Christina laughs so hard I'm worried she'll pee herself.

"Can't imagine why!"

A car pulls into the driveway, startling all of us. A car sign for Papa Max's Pizza glows on the roof of the car, and out steps a pimple faced Justin Bieber wannabe who is barely five feet tall. "Pizza?" He asks with a cracking voice, and beginning to eye Christina and myself up and down.

I glance over at Nita. I hadn't seen her and Four follow us out here until after Uriah jumped and they moved out of the pathway to the door for him to bolt inside. I wonder if they missed it. Too bad, Uriah will probably never do that again.

Nita on the other hand is cringing, hard. Matt eagerly walks up to the guy, hands him some cash and brings the five pizzas inside. He stops before the doorway, "How old are you?"

The kid straightens up. "Turned eighteen yesterday! This is my first night delivery."

Matt and Zeke snicker. Nita puts her head in her hands and I can hear her groan. I'm far too pleased with this development. Four even begins to look a little amused at everyone having a good time. It's just the smallest of smirks, but it floods me with emotions. Emotions I don't quite know what to do with at the moment, so for now I'll settle on watching Nita make out with the pizza guy.

"How long?" Nita asks as the kid is about ready to get back into the car.

"At least a minute." Zeke says smiling, "We're kind."

"Pizza guy!" Matt shouts now from the kitchen window. "The girl in the purple shirt has your tip."

The kid looks confused and counts the money Matt gave him. "You already tipped me $15."

Matt smiles sinisterly. "Not that kind of tip." Then he walks back outside to get a better view.

Nita is a good sport. She walks up to the kid, and I swear she threatens him if he gets handsy, before she presses her lips to his. The kid flips out suddenly and his hands go around her in an instant. She's a head taller than him, and it makes it even better.

When Zeke calls time, Nita pulls away and runs to the house, wiping her mouth in the process. The kid on the other hand, looks thoroughly messed up. His hair is wild, even if she didn't touch it, and his lips are red and swollen. I half wonder if he's ever actually been kissed before. Especially to earn that kind of reaction. He then has the gall to ask if anyone else wants a turn, since he's more than willing to pay the tip forward. Zeke starts swaggering towards him smirking and the kid races back to his car, locking the blue-finger-and-toed-crazy-eyed-Zeke out.

After some more snickering, we all make it back into the house. Not before Zeke shoves snow down Shauna's shirt and Matt fall flat on his butt twice. I never would have taken him to be a light weight drinker.

When they do come in, Four goes straight to the kitchen and takes the cake out of the oven. It's browning but yellow mostly all throughout. Zeke will be devastated it's not chocolate, but I don't think he'll complain too much once he actually begins to eat it. Four then begins to make a frosting, and that's when I see the chocolate come out. Hot heavy cream mixed with a small amount of cream cheese, powdered sugar poured over chucks of white, milk and dark chocolate in their own individual bowls. I'm more anxious to see him frost the cake than finish this game. I sit down with my cold aching feet – all of Will's hard work has regrettably reversed itself – tucked underneath me, and grab a slice of pepperoni from the side table.

"Ok-k-kay." Uriah says coming back into the room dressed like he lives in the Arctic Circle. "M-my turn-n. Lil-ly." He sits down and his hands immediately go down his pants with a couple of hot hand warmers. Marlene is audibly disgusted and amused at the same time.

Lily batts her eyes. "Yes?"

Uriah narrows his eyes at her. She smiles innocently and saws "Dare."

It takes him a minute to get the words out, but he ends up daring her to eat a head of raw broccoli. Lily scowls suddenly and takes a shot. She must be a picky eater.

"Shauna, truth or dare?" Lily asks, downing another shot.

"Truth." Shauna says crossing her arms over herself to help warm up faster. Goosebumps still pimple everyone's arms.

"What's your biggest fear?"

Shauna's face scrunches up, "Failure."

The room quiets a bit as Shauna's serious answer brings back a huge pressure point for everyone here. If we fail, we die. But Shauna soon wipes the expression off of her face and calls on Slade next. He doesn't look as tense as he did when he first came here tonight, but he doesn't appear relaxed either. I wish he would. Shauna asks him if he's ever gotten a tattoo from a dare.

"Yes."

Zeke snorts, "Wouldn't it be funny if tough guy over here had something like a heart on his tushy?"

Slade, for the first time I've ever seen, blushes furiously and his brown eyes widen immensely.

Matt's jaw drops. "No way . . ."

Uriah mumbles something slurred and stuttering that sounds vaguely like, "You said that was a birthmark in the dressing room."

Zeke tips backwards into the standing lamp and crashes, unbelieving that he just guessed it. Slade could deny it all he wanted now, but his face just gave it away. And now everyone in this room knows that Slade, mystery of the universe, has a red heart tattooed on his ass. It's perfect.

Zeke now wears the lamp shade for a hat, but doesn't seem to care.

Slade, eager to _not_ be the center of attention looks around the room quickly. His eyes land on me, but he already got me once. It'd be too conspicuous if he picked me again and he knows it. This drunk group of people would automatically assume Slade and I had something we weren't telling to the others. It's best to avoid that kind of situation as often as possible.

Tori emerges from the bathroom then, just setting her phone down, and goes to bring a water bottle back for Myra, who is still being sick.

"Tori." Slade calls.

She looks up, a bit exasperated, and instantly says "Truth."

"As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?" Slade is a good conversation starter.

Tori takes a piece of Hawaiian pizza. "An artist. I wanted to work mostly with watercolor and pastels. So, when I realized I needed money, I started tattooing. Turns out I'm bomb at it. That's actually how I started at Dauntless, by getting hired at their home tattoo parlor, then turning dancer. Turns out I was bomb at that too."

Everyone quiets a bit at the name of our choke hold Dauntless.

Lily looks down at her jelly covered tattoo and nods in approval once more to Tori.

"So, my turn. Will," Tori looks over at Will resting comfortably against Christina.

"Truth." He calls back, and he yawns. It seem the game is dying down.

Tori smirks. "Ever gotten or given oral in a public place."

Will's head hits the back of the couch hard, "Yes." Christina squeaks. "Multiple times in both directions." That earns a few chuckles. Christina looks mortified, the exact opposite as she would have if that had been admitted when she was sober.

A cab pulls up then, and Tori pulls Myra out of the bathroom. She announces she's taking Myra home. Zeke whistles and she throws an empty bottle at him. It crashes hard against the wall scattering glass across the floor. Shauna gets up to grab a broom. We all say goodbye to Tori and Myra.

"Lynn, you can come up now." Christina says after her head comes off of Will's chest. "It's been an hour. Well done."

Lynn flips over happily, and then immediately passes out.

I feel a yawn reaching my lips, but the alcohol is still present in my system. My bottle of vanilla vodka is only half gone. I shouldn't even have had that much. I'll be hung over in the morning for sure. It's just barely past 12:30 now. This is normally early for me, but I'm exhausted really.

"Four, truth or dare." Will calls over to the kitchen.

I didn't even see Four get up, but sure enough he's currently marbling the cake with white chocolate, milk chocolate and dark chocolate frosting. There's even a bowl of white chocolate covered raspberries in a bowl next to him. How fancy is he making this?

"Dare." He calls back, not even looking up.

Will nudges me. "Suckle someone's ear."

Four picks his head up in slight surprise. I can see his eyes are slightly glazed over with the small amount of alcohol he's had tonight. Nowhere near as much as the rest of us. He, Shauna, and Slade are the only real sober ones here. His eyes flash to mine and he scowls. "Later."

This gets everyone's attention.

"Uh-uh Four. Gotta do it now!" Zeke says gleefully.

"Did you state the rules before the game that it had to be done right when the dare is given?"

"No?" Zeke says suddenly distraught.

Four smirks for the second time tonight. "Then I will do the dare. Later. Gotta state the rules beforehand Zeke, you know that." He begins to set the raspberries on top of the cake in a circular swirly pattern starting in the middle and working its way out. "Don't feel too bad Zeke. Your cake is almost done by the way."

A smile returns to Zeke and he sits happily in his seat once more.

"Do I get some?" Uriah asks with his hands still shoved down his pants.

"Only if Zeke says so." Four responds in a very fatherly tone that makes my toes curl.

Zeke's lips rise at his younger brother and Uriah huffs.

"Al," Four says as he brings the cake to the center coffee table in the living room, and sets a fork down in front of Zeke who instantly begins to eat it. Moaning with every bite.

Al smiles. "Dare."

"I wasn't asking you if you wanted a dare." Four says sternly. "Move your feet." I feel myself smirk.

Al frowns and does as he's told, clearing Four's pathway back to his seat.

"On second thought," Four says, "I will give you a dare. Go sit outside again."

"For how long?" Al asks getting up.

"Until I say otherwise."

Al puts his hands on his hips. "Fine, but before I go. Tris,"

Me again? "Yes?"

"Dare?" He asks hopeful.

"Sure."

Al looks triumphant. "Make out with someone in the room."

I roll my eyes. "I already did that."

"That was part of my dare though." Christina says from my right. "Though I wouldn't mind a second round if you're up."

My eyes glance at Four, and his eyes are on me. "Anyone?" I ask Al, not looking at him. Four's shoulders stiffen.

Al nods.

"Fine." I stand up, walk directly at Four despite Nita's harsh scowling and turn at the last moment to Matt standing against the wall and plant my lips on his. Matt's lips are nowhere near as soft as Christina's were, nor are they as full and plump. Matt's lips are cracked a bit, and dry. The beer on his tongue is revolting, but all in all, he's not a bad kisser.

I pull away after a short amount of time and sit back down. Four is once again looking at his shoes and Al looks shot down. "Go outside now." I usher him.

He does as he's told. Matt on the other hand looks great.

"Zeke." I call out. "I already know you want a dare, I'll give you a choice:" he leans in towards me, ready. "Either share your cake with Uriah, or lick the underside of his shoe."

Uriah looks very interested in this dare as his brother scowls. "Shoe." He says pulling a face and wrapping an arm around the plated cake.

"I'll go get it!" Marlene jumps up since Uriah has only just stopped stuttering.

Zeke is so determined when it comes to this game. He puts on a brave face as Marlene comes down the steps with the ugliest dirtiest shoe I could have imagined. It's completely black on the bottom even though they were clearly white when bought. The laces are grimy and almost green and it smells awful. But, ever the king of dares, Zeke gives the underside of the shoe one long lick. And then proceeds to swallow whatever it was on his tongue. He grimaces hard like he ate something sour and shivers unpleasantly.

I stand, suddenly very tired and go to the kitchen. I set my vodka bottle down and trade it for some water. Gulping it down and walking out to the bathroom.

Zeke is still gagging when I return, but this time I stay in the kitchen and munch on some left over pizza crusts from someone else's eating.

"Okay," he croaks out. "Marlene."

"Truth." She says while playing with Uriah's small amount of hair.

"What's your best sex move?"

"Really Zeke?" Shauna asks, disbelief written over her face. That upset her really fast. Mood swings. "You have to ask her that?"

"It's okay Shauna." Marlene adds, "It's just a game."

Shauna huffs and walks out of the room. Zeke looks torn between following her and waiting for Marlene's answer. But Marlene waved him out, "Go follow her."

We never find out what Marlene's answer is. Soon Shauna and Zeke are yelling upstairs. It's muffled, but Shauna sounds upset and Zeke just sounds confused. _Just tell him already._

Christina and Will go to the other dining room, and Matt goes with Lily and Slade to the basement that I didn't know existed until now. You can practically see the heat that flows from the room. That must be where they're sleeping.

Nita goes to use the restroom, and Uriah and Marlene drag a now passed out Al from outside to lean against the front door, then also go upstairs to see if there's anything they can do to help. I find myself alone in a room that was once crowded with noise, laughter and friends. Something about it feels eerie.

Half of Zeke's cake is still sitting on the table though. And while sweets don't sound the best right now, I'm really curious since Four is the one who made it.

I grab my own fork and take a small piece. The yellow cake is so moist and strong that I close my eyes to savor the sensation. The chocolate frosting is more like a shell and melts almost instantly in my mouth. I steal one of the raspberries and am delighted at the taste as well. Before I can grab another bite, a voice comes from behind me,

"I thought you were supposed to ask Zeke first."

Heat builds in my chest as I turn to face Four.

"And I thought we weren't on talking terms. Certainly seemed that way these past nine days."

Four's face hardens a bit, but he forces himself to relax. "I was childish, I know. I wanted to talk to you, I just didn't know how to start."

"Maybe by picking up the phone or even coming to the Pit." I add sarcastically, going in for another bite. "Or ya know, if you prefer just come to Dauntless again. I'll give you a discounted dance."

Four grabs my wrist hard and spins me around to face him once more. But he lets go as soon as he sees my distressed face. Something within him changes in that split second and he looks to the wall as if it had the answers. His jaw is clenched tightly as I rub my wrist gently.

"Why did you lie to me?" He asks, finally looking back at me.

I take a deep breath. He wants to do this now? Here? Fine. "I didn't lie to you. I just withheld the truth. I never told you something that was false. And had you not been an idiot and arrive at Dauntless three days early, I would have told you!" I punch his shoulder, and for a moment it makes me feel better. Then the weight settles again and I begin to drown.

Four looks pained at my response. "I know, I just can't understand why you withheld it. Something that big!"

"I didn't know if I could trust you."

"You have a hard time trusting anyone don't you?"

"Yes."

He shifts his feet. "Did you even consider the position you were putting me in?"

Now I'm mad. "Position? What position is that? Sorry I didn't tell you because I didn't want to get killed, I didn't want to get you killed, I don't want anyone to get killed." Well, there's Eric. "It's not just a club I work at, it's a whole underground system run throughout the city run by powerful people. No one would believe us if we came forward, and besides, we wouldn't be able to say it loud enough fast enough before someone within their regime found us out. Not in Chicago anyway. They have eyes and ears everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if they've bugged the Pit actually." That thought alone is terrifying. "That's why we were reaching out for help. We couldn't do it on our own. We had the information but we needed an out. That's what I was going to tell you, ask of you, beg you if I had to. Because against all of my better judgement, I decided to let you in and take a chance at trusting you!" I get closer to him, just he can understand exactly how difficult this has been. My eyes prick at the corners, but my voice is sturdy. "We're one of their biggest sources of off the books income. Why risk selling drugs or exotic animals when you can enslave girls to dance for you and bring in thousands of dollars a night?" My tone lowers to a deep whisper, glaring Four in the eyes. "Why couldn't you have just walked away? This _position_ you're in, you put yourself there. I didn't ask for your attention. I didn't ask you to like me."

His eyes flash, but his face remains impassive. "Do you like me?"

I thought he was the one supposed to be giving answers here, apologizing. Not me. He's the one who reacted badly and walked out. He owes me the explanation. Why am I so open now? What gives him the right to ask me that question?

Something sparks inside me. I reach down and grab the hem of my shirt and rip it over my head, leaving me in a strapless black bra Christina lent me, and my raven tattoos.

Four stiffens immediately at my newly exposed skin. He's seen me at Dauntless. He shouldn't have a problem with this. "What are you doing?"

"Playing the game."

"The game?"

"You asked me a question. I chose not to answer. So I removed an article of clothing rather than take a shot."

He almost rolls his eyes. "Tris,"

"I shouldn't be having any more alcohol tonight anyway, so this is the next best thing. Strip truth or dare, except now it's just truths."

"Would you please put your shirt back on?"

"Bothered?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Four takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. It's almost comical. His dark blue eyes don't rake over me, or even flick every now and then to exposed skin like any other normal male human being. His gaze is locked on my eyes, painfully. For one of the first times in the last week, I'm right where I want to be. I have his attention. I'm making him understand. I'm explaining, and making him see that I had the right intentions, it just didn't go the way he wanted it to go. Unfortunately for Four, life isn't fair. I can't be molded into something that's easy to handle; I'll act, play along, and be the delicate flower to survive, but if you challenge me you'll get stuck with my thorns.

He opens his mouth just a bit, and although it's hard, I manage to keep my eyes from glancing at his lips. "Tris," he takes my shirt from my hands and turns it back from its inside out fold. Then he reaches towards me and pulls the shirt back over my head. "I'm sorry."

My heart jolts at the sound of his voice – I've broken him down. Those two words that I needed to hear, came out in the sincerest form I couldn't even imagine.

"What I did was inexcusable. I can't even begin to fathom what you've had to endure in order to survive. At first I was just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you were dancing in a place like that," his voice dips. "And you looked like you enjoyed it." Four closes his eyes briefly, and I wish he wouldn't. Does he still question if I enjoyed it? I have to at times just to get through the night. "I was stupid to be there early. I had a feeling, but I didn't want it to be true." He chuckles darkly. "I wasn't even there that night for you. I had fully intended to come when you wanted me to, but something came up, and I saw you there. My emotions took over and I needed to get out of that place. It's small enough as it is, but suddenly everything was closing in." Is he claustrophobic? "I needed to calm down. But by then, you had seen me and I reacted badly. And, I'm sorry Tris."

Moisture touches my cheeks, so I wipe it away quickly, finally breaking eye contact. I don't know what to say to that. I had partially expected him at this point to never talk to me again. I don't know what I was expecting actually. I just wanted to confront him, I wanted him to grow up, I wanted things to be made right. There's still one thing however that I don't know the answer to.

"So," I begin, my voice croaking more than I'd like. "You still haven't told me, whether or not you agree to help me. I'm sure Shauna or Zeke has filled you in on the basics of the plan."

He nods. "They did. And I've never felt more idiotic."

More moisture on my cheeks, but I smirk. "Really? Never failed a class or screwed up other life events?"

The corner of his mouth twitches. "Well, maybe."

"You'll have to tell me about that. In my mind you were already so perfect, it's nice to see you flawed as well."

His mouth moves a little more, and his sarcastic tone comes back. "I'm happy my faults make you so pleased."

I sigh. "I've missed this. We haven't spent much time together, but I miss it." That was meant to only be a private thought. My face flushes quickly. It's that left over alcohol in my system. My filter isn't as guarded as it usually is. "Is that weird?"

"No," he says quickly. "I've missed talking with you too. And seeing you smile. While I don't mind your scowl, it's not as fun when it's directed at me."

My smile widens, and so does his. "Tell me something," I say.

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

He doesn't pause like I would have. "Yes." The sound makes me feel with a calm warmth from head to toe.

I take a deep breath. Trust test time. "I _wish_ you would tell me your real name."

His eyes flicker off to the side and there's a slight roll in his shoulders. The blue in his eyes lightens for a fraction, and his cheeks gain a slight flush. It's the most vulnerable I've seen him.

Please. Tobias, please trust me.

"My name is—"

"Four?" Nita's voice startles both of us. Her brown eyes stare accusingly at me. Her arms are crossed over her chest tightly, and her foot taps impatiently on the floor. She's acting childish, and it almost makes me laugh. But for the sake of Four I hold it back. I don't even really know what their relationship is, if they have any. _Well obviously they have one._ They came here together and she's been cuddling up to him all night. Green jealousy blooms in my chest once more, and I begin to narrow my eyes at her.

"Yes?" Four is strictly calm, and it seems he can taste the tension between the two of us.

She almost scoffs like he should have been expecting this. "Are you ready to go now? It's very late."

"I'm staying here tonight."

"What do you mean, you're staying here tonight?" She's about to blow.

"I don't know how else to phrase that so you can understand it. I'm spending the night at my friend's house."

"Right, so you can be with her!" There it is. Her jealousy is worse than mine. It makes me feel just a bit better. She thinks Four has chosen me over her. "I knew you were fucking her behind my back."

Four straightens up immediately and turns to face Nita completely, almost shielding me from her. Or maybe he's protecting her from me. Because if she says much more, I'm going to lose my filter again, and maybe even my collected stance. My fists are already clenching.

"It makes perfect sense. That's why neither of you admitted if you'd slept with someone before."

"Nita," Four begins. But really, what do you say to someone who can't be convinced of the truth? How do you communicate with them? "Tris and I are not," he takes a breath. "Sleeping together." _Not yet._

"Did you know I'm his date tonight? He asked me to come here with him."

"That doesn't make it a date." I snap back at her.

Four takes a half step back, closer to me. "Nita I've tried to be friends with you. But it's not working."

"Don't do that. You're mine. You've always been mine." Tears form in her eyes. "Ever since we were kids. I knew you were mine. Why are you doing this to me?"

"You can't force him to like you as something else," I say firmly. "You can't control him."

This seems to spark something in Four, and he instantly relaxes. His hand finds mine then, and our fingers interlock. My breath catches, and for a moment, everything is okay. The warmth from his hand shoots through my arm and up into my chest where it coils and burns into a bright glow. This is right. This is what it's meant to be like. Nothing can touch me like this.

Except for a now pissed off Nita who is charging at me. I let go of Four's hand and try to brace for her impact. She knocks me over, and goes down with me letting out a wail at the same time. Her hands fly at me in all directions, and occasionally her nails pick up some skin. I shove her off of me after poking her hard in the stomach and quickly get to my feet. I wish I had my heels back on. Oh the damage I could do. Nita gets up just as fast.

"Nita stop!" Four shouts getting ready to move between us. My fist hits her first. One punch. My hand screams in pain, as Nita falls flat on the floor and doesn't get up.

Four looks between the two of us. "Was that really necessary?"

"You're chastising me about keeping my temper down?"

He pales a bit and purses his lips. "No." He picks her up over his shoulder and grabs her car keys from her purse. "I have to take her home now though."

"What?"

"If you hadn't knocked her out, she could be driving home by herself right now. I'm not going to just leave her in her car, and I don't want her to stay here tonight, so I have to take her home."

"Oh."

Four stops and looks back at me. His face softer than before. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate what you did. Apparently I was too subtle with her." He gives me a small smile. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

True to his word, he returns in an hour. Telling me how he left a note for her that her car is still at the Pedrad house. How he had to leave her on the couch because she started coming to, and he wanted to get out of there before she did wake up. He also tells me how here is a nice purple bruise starting on the side of her face. At first I thought he would be mad. There are plenty of ways I could have handled that better, but he was actually impressed. Not to mention glad that I could hold my own.

Everyone else had quieted down by then. It was almost three in the morning. I had gone upstairs just before Four got back to grab Christina and mine's bag. Zeke and Shauna appeared to have made up while upstairs, and Uriah and Marlene were whispering to each other under a blanket, about what I have no idea. Christina and Will had fallen asleep under the dining room table inside his sleeping bag. I didn't go downstairs to check on Matt, Lily, or Slade, but it's quiet so I assume it's alright.

Al on the other hand woke up in the kitchen once or twice, bumbled around spouting things like inner beauty, his parents, Shakespeare and not feeling good. I helped drag him to the downstairs bathroom and shut the door. I then check on Lynn, and help drag her to the downstairs closet for the night, wrapping her in coats and using shoes as a pillow.

When Four got back, he touched my shoulder tentatively like he still wasn't sure it was okay. I gave him an encouraging smile. We go down the hallway to Hana Pedrad's room, as Zeke already told Four he could use it the day before. I glance nervously at Four, and he immediately offers to take the floor. I'm about to argue with him, it's a big enough bed, but he insists.

I change clothes in Hana's bathroom and wipe off the excessive makeup that had partially run down my face from sweat and tears throughout the course of the night. I slide on my black sweat pants and a long sleeve gray shirt. I add my bright blue fuzzy socks for good measure.

Four stands in similar sweats and a black tank top. He wears plain white socks and for some reason they look ridiculous. I can't help the giggle. Four also grabbed me some Advil and a glass of water to start drinking. I take it gladly.

We lay down in silence mostly. There's still so much we don't know about each other. Among the new things I want to ask him are where he learned to cook and when he's going to suckle my ear? Unless he has plans for Zeke. And I need to fill him in on the details of our plan so he's able to participate effectively and without suspicion. I face the wall, with him on the ground just a few feet from me, breathing deeply.

Before I close my eyes and relax into the strange bed, he whispers, "Tobias."

Thank you, Tobias.


	30. Chapter 30

****FOURTRIS IS HERE. REPEAT: FOURTRIS IS HERE - and the chapter is looooooooooong again :)**

**Now to address a few reviewers and PM's from my last update, I upload original chapters as M almost always as a precaution if I feel it's a little much. During a few of my earlier chapters, I had a couple people respond and say they didn't think my chapters were appropriate for a T rating and almost verbatim said, "I don't want to have to, but I will report this story for inappropriate ratings." And the last thing I want is for my story to get reported and taken down. I understand many of you feel that my M chapters aren't always up to what the M are known for: sex, smut, nudity, etc. And I agree for the most part, so my M chapters are almost exclusively for caution! Hope I could clear that up!**

**And the only excuse I have for not updating sooner is because of school and the length of this chapter. I started writing this chapter in early October this year. Sorry if that bothers anyone, but as I've said before, I am a slow updater because I want to make sure my chapters are wonderful and because I put school and family before writing. **

**But it's winter break now! So maybe another chapter or two before the year is over?**

**We're in the thirties now, guys we're getting old Lol**

**Hope you enjoy – OVER HALF OF THIS CHAPTER HAS EMOTIONAL FOURTRIS IN IT****

**TRIS POV - Wednesday, December 24****th**

It was almost completely silent at the Pit today, except for one odd two hour burst from 7PM to 9PM. Matt thought it was because all the single parents who have the kids tonight burnt dinner. The kids didn't seem to mind, as they were getting chicken fingers and fries on Christmas Eve.

Shauna was bummed out tonight – she was getting so excited at being able to decorate for the holidays, but Max told her she couldn't. Apparently we'd had some complaints during Halloween that it wasn't fair to celebrate one holiday over the other. And while Halloween isn't really seen as a religious holiday to the general public, that too should be taken into account. Now with Christmas being religious to a larger population, Max could make the argument that The Pit is a privately owned establishment that has the right to advertise as it sees fit. But I have no idea if Max believes in what Christmas stands for, or even Christmas itself. Plus, Max wouldn't take the time to do that anyway. Never the less, it was more than surprising when Max made the announcement – it's not like Max to usually take complaints into account. Maybe he's trying to avoid unwanted attention?

He did allow Shauna to decorate with blue and white colors, making The Pit seem like a deep fried winter wonderland. No one can argue that they find the winter season offensive… I think.

Christina and Marlene received their acceptance letters to transfer to University of Washington.

None of the guys came to The Pit today, and none of us are quite sure why. Zeke and Shauna seem to have made up, but she hasn't said much about it.

He was here yesterday and acted, for the most part, like everything was back to normal.

Uriah pulled me aside when the brothers were about to leave and mentioned that he doesn't know what they fought about exactly, but Zeke knows she's keeping something from him. How Zeke doesn't want to think that Shauna is cheating, or worse yet, that she's not cheating and still wants to split. And Zeke is not the kind of guy to push at someone's secrets when it's clear the secret is serious to the person. I told Uriah that I would talk to Shauna if I could. And it was only after I'd said that that I realize I don't know how to approach the subject of pregnancy. Is it something I'm supposed to dance around, or just bluntly ask?

Will stopped by yesterday as well, after the Pedrad brothers. He was only here for a moment, but he was making plans with Christina for tomorrow. Max was still kind enough to give us Christmas day off.

I wasn't expecting it, but I was hoping none the less; Four showed up yesterday as well. I hadn't seen him since the party ended Monday morning. It had barely been 36 hours and I was finding myself missing him. It created a terrible hole in my chest that I didn't know how to fill. And yet, I berated myself for feeling a need to be near him. I've taught myself never to rely on anyone, except maybe Christina over the last couple of years. And now I'm throwing all that out so suddenly.

Four didn't saunter in like the Pedrads or Will. Four doesn't saunter. But there was a skip to his step that Lynn called him out on.

Seeing him felt like feeling the warmth of the sun on an otherwise cold day. I could feel the different ends on my body each lighting up like a string of blinking Christmas lights. My cheeks of course gave me away, and he smiled.

We spoke for a moment about Christmas; what we were looking forward to, memories we had, favorite places to go.

"I don't have a lot of happy memories from growing up. But Christmas was always a special time during the year." His finger rims the edge of his coffee mug. "My, dad," he swallows the word. "And I would volunteer at the Soup Kitchen on Holland Street for the dinner service. There was an older woman that I looked forward to seeing every year, she always wore the brightest colored clothing she could find in donation boxes. Never mind it fitting or being weather appropriate. That was how I saw my first leopard print bra."

I smacked his hand as he smirked. "How scandalous," I replied. "Sorry, I don't think I have any of those."

His smirk widened. "That's okay. I can't picture you in leopard print anyway."

"Have you pictured me in things before?" I blushed almost instantly and remember my fingers fidgeting under the counter.

Four didn't seem bothered by the question. And if he was bothered, he didn't show it. "Yes."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"No." He leaned back in his chair, took a final sip of his coffee and set some money down on the counter. "See you later."

I didn't let him get away that easily. I doubled back through the locker room and met him outback before he could get into his car. There was something more we needed to talk about.

"Four, wait."

He didn't look surprised when I caught him. "Yes?"

"Are you planning on going back to Dauntless, before New Years Eve?"

He stood rigid against the side of his car. It was black, sleek and there was definite muscle hiding under the hood. "I don't know." His voice was uncertain, like he wasn't sure if there was a specific answer I was looking for, or if a different answer might upset me.

I waved my hands to dismiss his negative thinking. "It doesn't matter if you plan to or not, I just need to tell you, that if you're going to come to Dauntless, you cannot act the way you did before."

His face paled just a bit. "I won't."

"That means no jealousy."

To my surprise he chuckled darkly. "I'll definitely be jealous. But I won't act out. I promise."

I felt myself leaning into his frame, and his arms wrapped around me, securing me in place. Warmth lifted from his chest and his lips came down to the crown of my head.

"It won't be much longer. Just another week." I said, as I watched the heat fly from his shirt into the frigid air.

"Tris," he said my name hesitantly. "Are you sure you want to do this, with me?"

I looked back at him oddly. "You're not?" A slight deflation slowly squeezing the air from my lungs.

But Four just smiled. "I mean I am three years older than you."

"2.416 years." I countered.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "You didn't just do that in your head did you?" Oops.

"…No."

He chuckled. He thought it was cute I'd calculated our exact age difference. My face turned red, and it crawled down the length of my neck and into my back.

His arms tightened around me and he rested his chin on my head by ducking down a bit. Without my normal heels, I'm still so shocked at how tall he actually is.

My parents were the same height, so this kind of affection was only ever seen if my mom was sitting down and dad was standing up.

"I've got to go," Four said suddenly, but still had not released his hold around my frame. The longer we stood out there, the more I was tempted to hold his body longer. I told myself I'd blame it on the cold wind picking up outside and the fact that he was shielding me from its brute force.

"Tris," his voice held the slightest of warnings, but in a playful way – like if I didn't let go soon he wouldn't be able to let go either.

"Why do I have to be the first one to let go?" I'd asked into his chest, inhaling whatever cologne or deodorant or even laundry detergent he uses that gives off that warm cinnamon spice. My arms squeezed around his middle just a little harder. I could feel him shudder and inhale a shaky breath. Perfect.

And then his arms dropped. "Unfortunately I have things to do, and you have to get back to work."

I felt my lips pout, and disappointment had begun to fight with the calm serene that had built up in me from standing out there with him.

"I don't want to."

I was more anxious to finally leave now more than ever before. I could take the occasional beatings, the degrading cat-calls, revealing clothing, and the troubling sensation of other humans' bodies pressed up against mine for money. I'd never felt more dirty being in someone's presence.

The selfish part of me wanted to get into Four's car with him and just leave. But that wouldn't be smart. The smart part of me wanted to wait until our plan played out, because really that was our best chance. But that meant being patient. The patient part of me was calculating and daring, almost wanting to leave a little note or some kind of metaphorical "fuck you" behind for Max and Eric. But that would be selfish and unnecessary. The selfless side of me wanted to make sure everyone was out of the city or on a plane before I left, but part of me knew that our plan going exactly as it was supposed to go, wasn't probable. Something could go wrong, and we needed to be prepared for whatever it was. Just in case.

"I'll see you soon okay?" Four had said as his hands rubbed the sides of my arms encouragingly. "I've got some stuff I need to take care of before the New Year."

A new year with Four.

My heart floundered.

And then he left. He drove out of the lot and turned left towards the center of downtown.

"Hey Tris, did you hear what I asked?" Lynn waved her hand in front of my face, waking me from my encounter with Four yesterday.

"No, sorry."

She rolled her eyes, mumbled something about boys making girls brainless and walked off. I couldn't help but smile.

Christina was currently serving one of our last tables of the night some chicken fried steak and french fries – a mom and dad with a young daughter.

"Matt, do we have any cupcakes left for the night?" Christina asked over the counter.

Matt's head popped out through the window. "No cupcakes. Just one whole cake."

"What is it?" I ask Christina, looking back over at the family. Parents eating the steak. The girl eating the french fries.

"It's the girl's birthday today, and apparently she hates Christmas because none of her friends can ever make it to a birthday party. This is her favorite place apparently, which is odd because I've never seen any of them before. Shauna didn't even recognize the girl and she knows all the regular kids." Christina pouts a little, "She wanted a cupcake."

Matt disappeared from the window and ten minutes later appeared through the doorway – the yellow cake frosted pink with little white swirls on it and scribbly fast frosting letters on the top. He'd lit a candle on top, and immediately began singing "Happy birthday!"

The little girl's eyes widened and her mouth dropped. Her parents had similar expressions.

Shauna comes from the back, Marlene comes up from the front and soon we're all gathered around the table, singing to the little girl.

She blows out the candle, and her mother begins to cry. Her father pulls out his wallet, but Matt stops him and tells him the cake is on us, in fact the whole dinner is on us.

The mother takes out her phone and takes pictures of all of us with the girl and all as a group. Myra begins a theory that the Pit is about to become Facebook famous – as though the mother would post about how kind we were. Maybe she was just taking pictures to remember the moment in the years to come.

Christina took out her camera at some point and began to take pictures as well. The father as it turned out was a professional photographer and director. Neil Burger. Christina and he talked for another twenty minutes on photography and different cameras and settings and other things I didn't recognize. When the family was about to leave, he gave us all his cards, and said if we ever needed filming for a project or senior photos and such done, don't hesitate to call.

"Last dance before Christmas!" Marlene shouted into the night sky as Matt continued to lock up the Pit for the night.

We said a quick goodbye to Matt and David – who had returned from his mysterious disappearance and said nothing of it – and headed off to Dauntless. Although it felt odd going to Dauntless on a night we don't normally dance on, it wouldn't be the first time we've broken schedule for a holiday. The last couple of years whenever a major holiday landed on a night that wasn't ours, Max and Eric would change the schedule allowing us to be the bread winners that night. We brought in more money than Group B anyway. It was a smart business move.

My phone pinged as we headed down the main road towards the center of town. A text, from Four. Christina thankfully had her eyes on the road the whole time and didn't mention anything.

Inside the message was an attachment.

* * *

"She was beautiful,

but she was beautiful

in the way

a forest fire

was beautiful."

-Anonymous

* * *

"Are you two academically-flirting again?" Christina asks.

"Shut up," I mumble back, blushing.

Christina grins. "It's cute. What are you going to send back?"

"Probably something similar." I already had a poem in mind.

"Have you sexted yet?"

"Keep your eyes on the road."

I turn back to my phone and begin to type out my poem, save it as an attachment and send it to him. It made me giggle thinking of what his reaction would probably be.

* * *

"I think,

if he was a book

he'd be the one you throw

across the room,

then hours later,

pick up again and leaf through

its pages."

-Anonymous

* * *

The outside of Dauntless was already crowded, and there were posters encased in glass advertising the New Year's Eve party and auction. It mentioned how only exclusive members could get in, but that was a lie. All they had to do to be "exclusive" was pay Eric a good chunk of money. It made me snort, thinking of being an exclusive Dauntless member as being similar to holding a gold Costco card.

Once inside, we could see exactly what was planned for us and Tori was already in costume, looking disgusted.

Santa costumes. Slutty Santa costumes.

"Better than last year," Lynn mumbles.

"Or the year before," Christina adds.

_Yes, because being dressed as slutty elves and reindeer in years past weren't nearly as embarrassing_. I still have my red blinking nose tucked away in a box somewhere.

"Look on the bright side," Myra said, still not sounding truly confident in herself. "Now we get to act out the infamous _Mean Girls_ scene."

Christina snorted, almost violently that made Lynn even give her a worried look.

Our costumes are never completely uniform, there is always some kind of variation that seems to fit each of us differently. Tori's outfit is basically a red one piece bathing suit with white fluff around her middle and all the edges, with appropriate black buttons down her cleavage. Marlene is in a full red and white body suit with slits up the side that look as though they could become bigger with a slight tug. Lynn has a Santa hat, black pants and a tight red halter. Christina's outfit is looser and flows a bit when she twirls, which everyone is jealous of. Shauna's is more of a romper, Myra's is similar to Tori's with more fluff and less suit, and mine is similar to Lynn's which I'm actually happy about; black tight pants, with a red crop top and ¾ sleeves; white fur lines the edges of my red top, and the top of my black pants. Everyone's heels or boots tonight are red.

Sapphire shows up almost late today, her face red and puffy, but she hardens up as soon as she enters the changing room.

Christina leans over to me, "Don't take this the wrong way, but she reminds me a lot of you." I watch Sapphire quickly compose herself, and slide into some hideous red stockings, and a black and white blouse. She drew her makeup like one draws a mask. And I'm suddenly frightened by Christina's comment. Sapphire is a lot like me.

Out of habit I almost walk into Eric's office for whatever shot is needed today, but his door is closed and the lights are off.

Peter is once again running around backstage. Tonight something's different though. He's angrier, sharper, and faster. He's there before he's needed, and reluctant to be there. He's louder, too. Not missing the opportunity to yell about how thick Shauna's butt is getting or how Myra missed a pimple on her face during makeup, or how Tori might as well be an old woman. Tori on the other hand seemed amused by this, and looked about ready to take the opportunity to punch the living shit out of him. Shauna held her back.

Then I realize that Peter's water bottle holds straight vodka, rather than water. I've seen Peter drink, but I've never seen him drunk. Turns out he can fully function while drinking, and even be better at his job than if he were sober. The only downside… he's meaner.

I walk over to my starting place once I finish my wig and makeup. Peter stands next to my marker shouting up at Al, but Al either isn't up there or isn't answering. There's a light sweat on Peter's brow and his pupils are dilated.

"You okay Peter?"

"Shut up whore."

I roll my eyes at the name. "How out of character for you."

His eyes snap over to me. "Don't be ungrateful."

"Why would I be ungrateful?"

"I've seen the looks." My stomach turns. He doesn't know, does he? About the plan? "You all hate me."

"Oh. Well to be fair, you're not the nicest person."

"That's because I don't have time to be nice."

I dramatically shrug my arms. "What does that even mean?"

"Stop asking questions."

I watch Peter fidget with his clipboard, glance at his watch, then the clock on the wall, then the back door, and finally Eric's office.

"Where's Eric, Peter?"

Peter flinches and takes another drink from his water bottle.

"Is something going on?" Maybe Eric is prepping Peter to take over? But if that's the case, where is Eric going? All I know is he's partnering with Jeanine from Erudite for these tests they gave me. Could they be planning to overthrow Max?

Peter is about my age, and could be a good looking guy if he dropped the dark attitude.

"Peter, why aren't you a dancer?"

He calms all at once, and the ice behind his look startles me. He leans into my frame, but is still taller than me in my heels. He smells like alcohol and pine, but it's the sneer on his lips that chills my spine.

"Because I'm smarter than you." Peter then goes up to the catwalk, probably to yell at Al.

The curtain began to rise before the music played, but soon there were dirty versions of classic Christmas songs playing throughout Dauntless: Jingle Bell Cock, O' Panty Spree, Carol of the Balls, Have Yourself a Merry Lap Dance, O' Come All Yee Horny, and my personal favorite, All I Want for Christmas is Boobs.

I twirl around the stage when cued and make lewd movements to the inappropriate songs. The crowd, almost all men tonight, love it.

Again, that feeling of being dirty begins to fill me, and one of my steps falters. I get back into rhythm but miss my cue again. My breathing comes in harsher. No one in the crowd seems to have noticed my out-of-character mistake. If Eric were here he'd yank me off stage and demand an explanation. My heart begins to beat faster, my skin feels hot the noises of the Dauntless atmosphere begin to blur in my head. Tori and Christina who are on stage with me at the time notice immediately and dance harder to cover for my slip up. Thankfully the number is over soon and I immediately go backstage to catch my breath.

Shauna finds me kneeling over my makeup station. "Raven?" She puts the back of her hand to my forehead. "You're burning up."

I try to laugh it off, my breathing still not calming down. "I was just on stage. You know, the lights, are hot?" But the choking feeling returns. My heart beats out of rhythm and my knees buckle.

"Tris," her voice is stern, but calm. "Listen to me closely. I think you're having a panic attack."

"Wha-t?" Suddenly the room is constricting and the ceiling is about ready to collapse.

"Focus on me and repeat this. 1, 2, 7, 5, 3, 12, 6, 9."

"1 2 7… 5 3… 12… 6 9." My breathing slows and the rhythm in my chest is once again familiar, though I'm not sure it ever actually changed. "How?"

"Apart from breathing into a bag, or blaming it on low blood sugar, the best thing to help battle a panic attack is to change your thinking. One of the best methods I've found, is by counting out numbers in your head out of order. Your brain can't focus on the wrong order of numbers and panicking at the same time."

I watch Shauna as I can finally close my mouth to breathe. "How often do you get them?"

"Panic attacks?" She bites her lip. "Couple times a week. I can usually hold it back until I get home."

"Why?"

She sits on the floor next to me. "I know you know. Hell, I think everyone knows except Zeke. I just, haven't been ready to admit it out loud yet."

"Shauna,"

"Please let me say it." She takes a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

I nod. "I know."

She smirks. "For how long?"

"I started suspecting about two weeks ago, right after you told Zeke about our plans. You just seemed different. Your face was a little rounder, and you were constantly touching you stomach. Then you started eating a lot of weird shit."

She laughs lightly.

"How long have you known?" I turn the question to her.

"I suspected something was off when I was late on Halloween. But I didn't know for sure until about a month ago. I even went to three different clinics, in disguise no less, just to be sure."

I back track in my head. "So that means, you and Zeke… oh Shauna not on the first date."

She blushes. "No. It was the second date."

"So you're what, about two months along?"

"Yeah. Thankfully I haven't felt much morning sickness. I don't show yet, but I know I've gained weight."

If we weren't planning to leave, Shauna would either need to abort, or risk the Gutter. Maybe this is a sign of something good to come. What better timing could have possibly happened?

"When are you going to tell him?" I ask.

Shauna sighs. "I don't know. With everything that's going on, part of me thinks it would be better not to tell him until after we're away. But the other part of me is furious for holding back the information for so long."

"Bambi?" Peter yells throughout the back. "You have a private dance in five minutes. If you're late it'll cost you." His words are slurring a bit now.

Shauna sighs. "You'll be okay?"

"You're the one whose pregnant and you're asking if I'm okay? You're way too selfless sometimes Shauna. Be careful or they'll think your fit for Abnegation."

She snorts. "Yeah right. Hey Tris, Merry Christmas." She points to the clock, and my eyes follow. It's almost 1AM.

For the final dance, all the girls were on stage in a synchronized number. My breathing remained harsh, but I was able to keep it under control. Then, I began to wonder _what if Four really is out there right now watching me?_

The thought sent a warm chill down my spine and made me dance harder, even if the dance routine itself was rather boring.

The guests screaming for an encore – we give them none. Because this time we had a choice. Eric wasn't here to tell us what to do. And when Peter tries to tell us, no one moves. He throws his clipboard to the ground and begins to yell. If I didn't know Peter had been drinking, I would have assumed this was some kind of mental break down. But that's not really something Peter would do – he'd silently stew about it and then plot revenge, usually something more violent. Marlene even ignores him completely and goes straight into the dressing room.

A stack of boxes is knocked over by the back stairs, and I see Al slinking along the wall, a duffle bag in his arm. It's the first I've seen of him tonight. Peter sees him too.

"Where were you tonight!?"

Al visibly shakes.

"You weren't at your station! I had to cover for you. That'll cost you."

Al doesn't respond, instead he makes for the back door.

"I'm talking to you!" Peter picks up a hand-mirror from Lynn's station and throws it across the room, hitting the wall next to Al's face.

Al drops the bag he was carrying with a thud. Peter stalks over to him and Tori grabs the bag. "Paris, what's inside?" Peter asks Tori, his eyes still on Al.

Tori unzips the bag slowly, and her eyes widen.

"Well?" Peter looks to her.

Tori flips the bag over and rolls of cash fall out. It's not surprising to see large amounts of money in one place through this job, but to see Al with that much money, it certainly sets off a few alarms. Peter on the other hand seemed to be enjoying catching Al with money. Money Al shouldn't have. It looks like the same amount from our combined tips tonight. But it's not. All our money from tonight is pooled over on the table, like every night.

"Where'd you get this?"

Al doesn't answer. But Tori does.

"Remember Molly's tip money that went missing?"

Everyone looks to Al. Peter's smile disappears. Al runs, escaping out the back door just before Peter could catch him.

Christina walks over to me and guides us both into the dressing area. Peter is clearly unstable, and none of us would like to deal with him right now. Marlene wishes us a goodnight, on her way out. She changed fast, but her makeup was still in place. Uriah must be waiting to take her home tonight.

"I can't believe Al," I start, not really knowing where to take my statement.

"We don't know for sure," Shauna starts. "But it definitely shouldn't be in his possession. And if Eric finds out, which he probably will, Al will be out of a job."

"But where to non-dancing employees go when they're fired. Max is hardly likely to _just let them go_, after working in this business and knowing that not everything that goes on around here is exactly legal. Is there a Gutter for employees like Al or Peter even?"

Shauna shrugs. "There has to be something in place. Max is too careful."

Christina nodded changing back into her clothes. "That was a lot of money too. Do you think Molly kept that much here, or was Al taking a little at a time?"

"Hard to say. Though I don't understand why you'd want to leave your money here. Surely Peter or Eric would pocket it. And if not them, then Group B certainly wouldn't mind some extra money. But wait. Peter and Molly were friends right?"

Christina shrugs. "I guess. I mean, they were closer than any of us were to either of them."

Lynn walks into the dressing room. "I saw them making out once."

"Seriously?" Christina's face twists in disgust.

Lynn nods, removing her wig. "Only the one time though. Molly followed him around for a bit after that but he must not have been into it anymore."

"Maybe he was drinking that night," I say switching into my day clothes, and pulling on a hoodie I brought. "I'll meet you outside."

Christina nods, as she finishes hanging up her things.

Peter isn't in back, maybe he chased Al down the street. And with a stroke of luck got hit by a truck in the process. It's slightly unnerving that the idea of a flattened Peter laying in the street with a fresh layer of pink snow surrounding him doesn't bother me.

It's ridiculous but what bothers me more is that it's Christmas, yet it doesn't feel like Christmas. I miss being able to sleep in my bed, knowing my parents were just down the hall pretending to be Santa Clause (who I believed in whole heartedly until I was 12). I miss waking up at 4AM just to sneak down and see how many presents there were, what color the wrapping paper was, if they used bows or ribbons and to steal any extra cookie that "Santa" didn't eat. I miss the smell of mom making her classic Christmas breakfast: bacon, oatmeal pancakes and fresh orange juice. I miss the expressions on faces when they open up a gift to find something that they really wanted or needed. And as much as I didn't really care for it at the time, I miss going down to the Outreach Center for dinner and helping to serve Chicago's homeless.

I don't see many homeless people on the street anymore. Maybe it's because of the cold, or maybe I just haven't really been looking.

The night sky is covered over with clouds that look a dark grayish orange from all the city lights.

"Get off me!" Marlene yells. "Peter!"

My heart sinks. I side step the small ice patches in the parking lot as quickly as I can before rounding the corner to the side of the building.

Peter's right hand held Marlene's wrists above her head. His left fist connects with her ribs twice before I move, grabbing an empty bottle from the recycling bin on my way.

Marlene makes a choking noise with every hit, and her screams become hoarser. "It's your fault their gone! Your fault!" Peter yells in her ear.

I don't say anything as I come up to them, and smash the bottle over his head.

Peter groans and falls to the ground fast.

Marlene skirts away heaving ragged breaths. "You okay?" I ask her quickly.

She nods. "Fine." A small purple bruise on the side of her head and finger prints on her throat were starting to appear. "He grabbed me by the neck when I walked out. Smacked my head against the brick before pulling me over here. Started shouting that it was my fault Molly and the carrot head guy dancer got kicked out." Her face contorts. "How was it my fault?"

I pull her up from the ground and start walking with her back towards the back door of Dauntless. "It wasn't. He's drunk. Molly accused you, which might be why he targeted you. Don't listen to him. Are you gonna report him to Er—" A fist connects with the back of my head and I feel myself fall against the wall and scrape my arm.

A blur falls on top of Marlene fast. My eyes take a moment to adjust and I can't feel my limbs until I count to ten in my head. Marlene goes down on the concrete hard. A small noise escapes her, and her eyes shut almost instantly. Peter's eyes are wide and crazy, a small amount of blood dripping down from his hairline. His hands pulling at Marlene's hair, her clothes, anything he can get his hands on.

"Peter stop!" I hear my voice. My movements feel staggered, my head feels heavy. I try to pull him off of her. He punches me in the gut with more force than I thought he had.

I fall back on my knees wheezing, but still move towards him.

My arms reach around his neck and I pull him into the best chokehold I can manage. Peter's attention switches from Marlene to me and he escapes quickly. Pinning me down on the frozen dirty asphalt, "It's her fault! They're gone because of her!"

His hands are all over me. A few punches to my gut, then his hand connects with my chest, and suddenly I'm vaulted back to Professor Thompson's classroom. Except this time there's no door to escape from. There's another squeeze at my chest, a punch to my face, some pressure between my legs, and Thompson's face staring down at me, grinning wickedly. His teeth like fangs, hands like claws, and eyes so black I can see my own reflection in them. My mouth hangs open and I can't breathe. I can't move. My heart pounds rapidly behind my chest. Cold air hits my abdomen and I close my eyes fast. I don't want to see this. I don't want to see this. I don't want to be here.

I don't tell him to stop. I don't say no. I can't say anything. I blink, and there's only Thompson. Maybe my mind prefers him to Peter.

But then the weight is gone, and I can hear Marlene scream.

_Get up! Marlene needs help!_

I can't move.

More yelling. More voices. Muffled voices. Stern, shocked and horrified voices. _Help Marlene, please get Peter away from her._

Hands grab me again. My thoughts clear and movement returns to my legs. I begin to kick and fight with everything I have. The hands grab at my waist and more hands at my head. They're holding me down. My voice is still gone, swallowed up by horror.

Tears leak from behind my eyes.

Fingers touch my face, gently and anger wells up inside me. He doesn't get to be tender.

"No!" I scream, throwing a punch in the direction of the hands. My fist connects with something hard and there's a loud crunch. My knuckles burn but satisfaction sets in.

The voices swirl my head in a symphony of dialects. I don't know the words.

Then the hands hold down my wrists, by crossing my arms across my own body. There's a warmth behind me and I'm crushed to it.

"No." My voice is weaker when I can't escape. I begin to dry-heave and more tears fall.

"Open your eyes." A voice commands me. Thompson.

My whole body begins to shake. "No, stop. Please."

"Open your eyes." His voice changes a bit. It's funny and deeper. "Please Tris."

Tris. Thompson doesn't call me that, neither does Peter. They call me Raven.

The hands let go of my wrists.

"Please open your eyes."

There's a tightening in my throat. A whine of defeat rolls through my chest. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be here. I want my mom.

Opening my eyes hurts, and my stomach sinks as light begins to fall through my eyelids. But I'm no longer in Thompson's classroom. I'm back on the asphalt, in the snow, behind Dauntless. But I'm not alone, and neither is Marlene.

Lynn and Shauna are dragging an unconscious Peter back into the building. Marlene is standing in Uriah's arms with his coat wrapped around her, staring at me. Christina sits beside me, tears in her eyes. Why is she upset?

Tori walks around the corner, a paper towel slowly turning red held to her nose. I look down at my knuckles. Oh no.

"Tris?"

It was never Thompson's voice. I should have known by the arms holding me.

"I…"

"I'm taking her home." His voice again. I melt a little further into his chest.

Christina nods and stands. I try to stand with them, but my legs give out, still shaking. Four picks me up, bridal style and hugs me close. Instinctively I burrow into him. If any of our audience asks later, I'll claim I was cold. The back of my jeans are soaked through from the wet ground as it is. And the back of my sweatshirt is beginning to soak through to my shirt. My hands and my arm stings. My gut hurts, and so does my… chest.

I shiver once more, and feel like dry-heaving all over again.

Four places me inside his car, the heat already cranked. He slides into the driver's seat. We pull away from the lot, and are off down the road heading for home.

We enter the Woods District but he doesn't turn down my street. I'm about to open my mouth when I realize that he's taking me somewhere else. Two blocks and one side street later, we pull into an apartment complex garage, not too different from my own. He pulls me out of the car, refusing to let me walk and brings me to the staircase, goes up to the ground floor and turns down the sidewalk to apartment 104. There's a four small steps up to the porch and front door, but soon we're inside.

He said he was taking me home. _His _home.

"I can walk now." I say quietly as he continues to carry me through the apartment.

"I figured. Just let me do this." He carries me all the way over to the back room. His bedroom no less. Sets me down on the bed and walks out of the room once more. Returning shortly with towels, and some blankets.

He tugs at my sweatshirt. His intentions don't fell malicious at all. I help it up over my head, wincing slightly as it rubs on my temples.

"Let me see your eyes." He kneels on the ground before me.

I keep them open and watch as he looks from different angles, and has me follow his finger. "You might have a concussion. Let me know if you feel dizzy or nauseous at all."

I nod, keeping my eyes on him as he reaches over for the towels and hands them to me.

"Do you want to freshen up?"

"Yeah." I take the towels from him and walk over to the bathroom on the other side of the room, closing the bathroom door behind me. The lights are too bright, so I turn half of them off. Only the light above the sink remains on.

A shower sounds wonderful but as I reach for the water, a wave of dizziness falls over me. I look back at the door. Four would no doubt come charging in if I spoke up now. Maybe a bath would be better.

The warm water quickly turns hot, so hot my fingers go numb. I plug the tub and wait for it to fill. Steam begins to fill the room, turning the air thick and warm. My shirt is easier to get off than my sweatshirt was. My jeans are a little difficult only because they were sticking to my wet skin. Staring at myself in the mirror I debate whether or not I should take off my bra and underwear. Four is in the next room. But he's proven himself to be a gentleman. He's still a guy in his early twenties. He's not _that_ kind of guy. I take a leap of faith and remove them. It will feel better bathing without any clothing on anyway.

I catch a glimpse of my body in the mirror, red marks beginning to form under my skin. But I don't look too long. They'll be worse tomorrow.

I set my clothes in a semi-neat pile at the edge of the tub and sink into the water, hissing as it slowly burns my skin. After just a few minutes, I'm able to lean back and fully relax. That is until the thoughts of doubt set in.

I'm stronger than this.

Why couldn't I help Marlene?

Why wasn't I able to fight back? Peter was drunk it should have been easy.

Maybe I wasn't smart enough.

Maybe I rushed.

Maybe I'm not as strong as I think…

One touch from Peter sent me reeling back weeks. Sent me back to something that's been nagging at the back of my mind. Something I haven't really been able to get over.

The cool kiss of tears touches my cheek in a harsh contrast from the water surrounding me. A small squeak escapes my mouth, and my hand rushes to silence it. If Four heard me he'd come in.

Weak.

Small.

Pathetic.

Dominated.

I am not Raven. I am not Tris. I don't know who I am anymore.

Raven wouldn't care this much. Tris would never have gotten involved with a boy, nor would she have let her friends be so stupid as to get knocked up. Raven would be able to shut it all off. Tris would be able to keep a straight face. Raven would laugh it off and go back to her playful, sultry personality. Tris would roll her eyes, scowl and make a snide comment under her breath.

Nothing feels right.

I pull my knees up to my chest and shake as my sobs become louder. My own hand choking back the painful noises. Suffocating me. I can't breathe. I can't breathe!

My head begins to spin, the hot water is too hot, the walls too close, black spots in my vision, lungs bursting, body paralyzed, water splashing, heart pounding, stomach churning, tongue swelling…

I want my parents. I want them back.

"Tris?" His voice at the door.

I can't form words. Another sob breaks from my hand.

"Dammit." His voice is louder. Clearer. He's closer.

I close my eyes as a draft from the other room licks my skin. My other arm wraps itself around my legs, still hugging my chest tightly. Now even more so from the cold.

His hand touches the side of my face – it's warmer than I expected.

And then his hand is gone. There's a rustling and the sound of clothes moving, the door closing, and suddenly he's back.

His hands are on my shoulders, pushing me forward just a bit.

My heart still pounding hard, my breathing slowed by a fraction of the original heaving. My lungs still burn and when I crack my eyes open, dizziness hits me hard.

The water displaces and sloshes a bit. And then his hands are behind me, on my forearms, pulling me closer to him. My back hits his bare chest and I freeze. He's here, with me, in the tub, holding me as he did behind Dauntless.

One of his hands goes up to my hair and begins running his fingers through. There's nothing alarming nor hostile in his touch. Short nails on my scalp, his other hand rubbing my back, my neck, my arm. His hands don't go anywhere near areas of my body that he'd need explicit permission to travel. Something breaks through the fog in my mind and tells me that he's never had such intentions and never will. Not unless I give consent. Four is not like Thompson, nor Peter. He's not like any of the men in my life.

Four is Tobias. And Tobias is safe.

"Tris?"

I manage my first deep breath in what feels like days. A shudder ripples through my spine and I can feel him shift behind me. My muscles release – any longer and they would have begun to cramp. I slowly stretch out my legs just a bit.

Tobias reaches for something next to him, dips it into the water and brings it to my skin. The washcloth is warm and soft. Rubbing gently into my neck, my back, and over my shoulders. Had I been even more out of my mind, I wouldn't have known it was even him. His touch, so gentle.

A bar of soap hits my back next, and my heart slows a bit more. His fingers slowly working away the knots and the soap slips softly across my skin.

Next he dips something else into the water, and tells me to hold my breath. Water hits my head and my scalp warms instantly. My hand leave my mouth and falls beside me. He pours another cup of water onto my head, before bringing the soap, or some similar smelling shampoo to my hair and his fingers get to work. He lathers my hair longer than is necessary, but it's welcome. As he begins washing out my hair, he also pulls what must be a towel into the water, soaks it, and then drapes it over my body. Not only keeping me warm, but also modest. And my heart thanks him for it.

Only after the last cup of water falls over my head does he speak again. "I'm not going to ask that you tell me what happened. I'm not going to _request_ you tell me, nor am I going to ask you about your reaction. What I am going to say is this: if and when you're ready to talk, I am here to listen. And not because the idea of not knowing sets me off, but because the thought of you not having someone to speak to makes my skin crawl.

"And before you say anything, I know you have Christina and the girls, but this is different and you know it. I know there are things you haven't told Christina. I know there are things you've kept bottled up – and I know this _because _of your reaction tonight. I don't know what Peter did before we got there, but when we arrived, you were in a state of shock with no outward harm visible. And when I touched your arm… the way you fought instantly against me, and how you physically reacted told me everything I needed to know.

"Like I said, you don't need to confirm anything. But you can't keep denying it to yourself either. It's not fair to you Tris."

I listen to the beat of his heart with one ear the sound of his voice with the other. They match in both serenity and power. His arms wrap around my waist slowly, as though still unsure. I don't want him to be scared of hurting me. But I also don't want to be scared of getting hurt. This vicious cycle that has run my life nearly into the ground stops now.

"Tobias?" My voice so much weaker and hoarser than I anticipated.

"Yes?" His heart skips in its powerful beat and his arms flinch just so. I crack my eyes open, staring at the side of the white tub, noticing briefly that Tobias kept his briefs on before getting into the tub with me.

"I'm ready to talk."

He releases a steady breath. "Would you like to stay in the tub, or would you rather get out?" His throat clenches just a bit at his words.

"I'm ready to get out."

Tobias nods. "Hold on." He leans me forward so he can stand up. Just in that moment I realize how weak my body really at the moment. As soon his the support of his body is gone, I sway uncontrollably, and threaten to smack my head against the edge of the tub.

He notices, and pulls me up out of the tub – bridal style once more. He sets me on my feet and instructs me to hold onto his shoulders. If I think my legs are going to give out, let him know immediately. My heart swells.

Tobias is making every effort he can not to look at my mostly naked body. The towel from the tub still hangs off of me at an odd angle, but I know part of my form is exposed.

He grabs the fresh towels I walked in here with, and wraps one around my body before removing the soaked towel. He motions for me to start drying off if I can. I do as much as I can for my torso, but I know if I bend or reach too much for my limbs, I'll tip over. From the adjoining closet, he pulls out some pants and a shirt. Holding the sweatpants out for me as a parent would to help their child dress for the day. I step one foot into each leg to the pants, and help him pull them up my body. I have to roll them a few times to keep them from sagging off of my hips. He then helps me slide one of his shirts over my body and finally sits me down to run the towel through my hair. My blonde hair turned light brown in the water, it's getting quite long.

Tobias dries himself, and dresses in the closet. He wears a pair of sweat pants and a black tank top when he comes back out. I can see the small parts of his back tattoo coming up over his shoulders. But there's something different about the way he stands in front of me now that his clothing has minimized. It's not embarrassment. More instinct. He almost never turns his back to me now that he's more exposed. That doesn't have anything to do with self-image, that's a survival tactic.

We walk out to his bedroom together as the tub drains. I see a cord leaving the corner of his bed and plugged into the wall. Something I didn't notice before. A small smile reaches the corner of my lips – it's the barest, most open I've ever felt. Tobias has a heater blanket on his bed.

He doesn't notice my reaction. Instead he goes out to the kitchen, turns on the water, then walks back in. He hands me some ibuprofen and a glass of water before he begins to turn down the bed on one side.

I stand up to help him with the other side, but my knees buckle and the glass of water slips from my hand falling to the carpeted floor.

"I'm sorry," I say, embarrassed at the slip.

Tobias simply walks over and picks up the glass. "Didn't break." Then laces his arm around my waist and helps me climb into the bed. He leaves the room, and comes back with some more water, and a hand towel – the towel for the carpet to soak up initial water, the glass for me. He sets it on the nightstand on the closest side to my form, then pulls to covers over my body.

I stare at his ceiling. It's been painted recently. White paint to cover up something. Words by the looks of it. But I couldn't make it out even if I were feeling myself.

Tobias turns out the main overhead light, closes the bedroom door and just stands there like he's waiting for something. He looks down at the floor, back to the bed, back to the door. The only light in the room coming from the low hanging moon peeking through the blinds, but it's enough to illuminate his path.

"You're not leaving. Are you?" I ask weakly. I thought we were going to talk. But him standing by the door puts me more on edge than it should.

"No." He stands resolved and tall, and a little nervous. But slowly walks over to the bed and crawls in with me. My stomach flops – in a good way for the first time tonight. He doesn't reach over to me, and lays almost rigid against the bed. It looks a little ridiculous. So I scoot a little closer to him, and he puts a hand out as though I might burn him.

"What's wrong?" I ask, sitting up a little more.

"I… I wasn't thinking."

"What do you mean?"

"My back."

That's right, Tobias doesn't like taking his shirt off. And we just sat in the tub for who knows how long, with his shirt off. If anything I should be the one embarrassed, he could have seen my entire body. Rather than stir up the need to cover myself, it oddly makes me relaxed.

"I didn't see anything." I tell him quietly.

He releases a heavy breath. "That's not why I brought it up."

"Then do tell."

Tobias lays there, still as a statue, looking to be in more than his fair share of discomfort. His fingers grip the covers around his waist tightly. "I wanted to tell you, _why_ I don't like taking my shirt off. But…"

I lean a little closer to him. "Can I see it? Your tattoo?"

This throws him off a bit. My stomach coils tightly. I don't want to scare him further into himself, but maybe showing me will be easier than telling me. Or at least get the conversation started, wherever it's heading.

He leans up on his arms looking down at me. "Are you asking me to undress, Tris?"

"Only partially."

Tobias inhales, sits up, and removes his shirt. Of the little light in the room, I can make him out perfectly. He turns slightly for me to see. I sit up and do all I can to keep from gawking. He has spent years sculpting his body and it looks good on him. Muscles clearly visible in his back, his shoulders and his arms. And then there's his tattoo. Small spiraling flames outline the whole of the project – some of those spirals looping up over his shoulders and around his waist. Then in the middle, are five vertical circles, each with something different inside. Symbols. I recognize these symbols. Flames for Dauntless. Hands for Abnegation. An eye for Erudite. Scales for Candor. A small tree for Amity. The symbols of the factions, of Max's clubs. But Tobias's father, Marcus runs Abnegation, and probably has since Tobias was young – he must have grown up with these symbols. No matter what they mean to Tobias, the artwork is stunning.

"It's incredible." I ghost one of my hands over his back. "Why all five?"

"Before I knew they also represented the line of clubs you work for, I grew up with them as ideals, things to strive for. My… father…" the difficulty in that title escaping his mouth does not go unnoticed. "Had me learn them at an early age, even before my mother disappeared."

My hand freezes. "Your mother?"

"Yeah?"

"You told me your mother died when you were young."

Tobias's muscles tense almost instantly. "I know."

Anger swells inside me, and it's hard to push away even when I remind myself that when he first told me his mother died, he may not have trusted me completely to tell me the truth, just as I didn't completely trust him.

Tobias continues. "About 6 or 7 weeks ago, I was contacted by my mother for the first time in 14 years. She gave me a scrap book she'd put together by watching me grow up from a distance."

"That's a little creepy."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"Have you met her yet?" I ask tentatively.

He nods. "I don't want to get into my mom right now if that's okay."

My hand continues to move around his back, tracing the swirling flames and the circles. "Sure. Tell me more about the circles."

"When I was young, my father would show me the symbols and tell me they meant ideals to live by, ways of life, what values to put before others and so on. He valued Abnegation above all else." _I wonder why. _He must not know about his father's business. "He wanted me to grow up to be the most selfless person I could be. He and my mother both lived that way, though sometimes I could see that my mother didn't want to live that way, or even be there. You see, my father, he…" Tobias shudders harshly, and my fingers graze over a deep scar on his back, covered by the tattoo. Oh. "He used to hit my mother when she wasn't selfless enough. Then he began to hit me. The belt was his favorite. And when he told me my mother died, I believed him. Turns out she had just run away. But she hadn't taken me with her. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her for that, because all my father's anger was turned on me. Sometimes after beatings, he would lock me away in a small closet in our house for hours on end. I have a fear of tight spaces because of that now. As soon as I was old enough to leave, I did." My fingers begin to notice more deep track patterns in his back, all covered by ink. He turns to face me and holds my fingers in his hands. "I got the tattoos because no matter what I knew I wanted to cover those scars. I got the idea for the circles, because I knew I couldn't let go of those ideals – in some twisted way, they make sense, but not on their own. That's where my father's logic was flawed. We should all have equal amounts of every trait. Ignoring two or three of them wouldn't make us human anymore. I don't want to be just selfless. I want to be brave, and selfless, and intelligent, and honest, and kind." He smiles just a little. "Though I'm still working on kind."

"Why is Dauntless the biggest circle?" I ask, my voice feeling small.

His smile widens. "To piss my father off if he ever saw."

I laugh, and it feels good.

He leans in and touches his forehead to mine. For all the anger I feel towards his father, nothing could overpower the feeling I have for Tobias. I don't even know what the feeling is. It's more than friendship, but not quite love. Then again, I have no idea what loving another person outside of family love feels like.

"Thank you for telling me," I say finally.

He nods. "I wanted to earlier. It just never came up."

I snort. "And it's not exactly the type of subject you approach out of nowhere."

He chuckles against me. "No, I suppose not."

We stay that way for a little longer, his hands still fumbling with my fingers. My body begins to feel the warmth of the bath wearing away, replaced by a dryer warmth of the bed. The heated blanket. I smile again.

"What?" He asks, looking at me as he pulls away slightly.

"You have an electric blanket." I giggle before biting my lower lip with my teeth to keep from getting too loud.

He smiles. "I do. But I'm not sure why that's so funny?"

"I don't know either. It just is." My laughter dies slowly, and Tobias begins to rub his hands over my shoulders, down my arms, across my neck, down my back. I shiver – and suddenly remember that I'm the one who told him I was ready to talk.

I take a deep breath. "Tobias?"

"Yes?" His voice huskier this time, and it twists my lungs.

"I want to tell you." My heart beats faster. "Everything, but I…"

"It's okay Tris. You don't have to tell me everything. Whatever you're comfortable with."

I push back from him. "No. I have to say this. I haven't even told Christina everything because it hasn't felt right, but this… this does. I just don't know where to start." My head falls into the crook of his neck, feeling the warm pulse beneath my head only speeds my own pulse to a faster pace.

"Do you trust me?"

"I want to."

"That's not an answer Tris. Not anymore. Do you trust me, yes or no?"

My stomach rolls and my muscles tense. And then, everything is calm. "Yes."

He shifts slightly so we're not nearly as close anymore. My head no longer on his shoulder, his hands no longer on my arms. We sit facing each other, cross-legged under the heat of the blanket. Tobias looks at me with little emotion, but his eyes are soft. Every so often his nose twitches and he looks away. It only now dons on me that he's probably just as nervous to hear what I have to say, as I am to say it.

After another pregnant pause a small bubble of anxious laughter makes its way up my chest. I look down at my fingers on the blanket and begin to fiddle with the hem. "No place to start except the beginning I guess."

"Whenever you're ready." Tobias's voice is calming.

I take another breath. "Okay," and begin. "When I was sixteen, my parents died. I was home alone that night just over four years ago. They were out for a night to themselves, having dinner and such. My brother, Caleb, was over at a friend's. Around 11PM, I heard some rustling downstairs. When I looked over the banister I could see that there were two men in our house. They were dressed completely in black, and digging through my father's desk. But they were being meticulous and careful about it. They weren't robbing us. They were looking for something. I went back to my room and called my parents. It went to voicemail. They were at some performance at the time. That's when I accidentally knocked over a lamp, and the men began to shout. One of them came up the stairs. I locked the door as quickly as I could. I called my parents again and again until finally they picked up, as they'd just left the theater. The man kept banging on my door and shouting at me. My dad told me to stay on the phone with him while my mom called the police. Then the men began to leave. I don't know why. It just got very quiet. And almost immediately after, my dad's phone cut out. I tried calling them back, afraid to leave my room. The cops arrived about 10 minutes later. One of them came to get me, and the others began looking around the house for evidence of a break in. They couldn't find any.

"Within the next three hours, I learned that not only had there been no traces of men being in my house, but that my parents had been hit by a drunk driver as well. Killed instantly. Caleb didn't believe me about the men in the house either. He didn't talk to me for weeks, except when I tried to kill myself." Tobias sucks in a deep breath. "Didn't work, obviously." He still looks tense. "After I was released from suicide watch, I tried getting into my old routine, but it didn't work. I snuck out alcohol from the foster family I'd been placed in. I got a tattoo of my own," I motion towards the ravens on my chest. "I pierced my ears, tried ecstasy once and a couple other things with names I don't remember. I tried shaping up after I was moved foster homes for the third time, mind you this all happened within the span of about 5 weeks. I even tried going back to the paintball games, but the closest I could get was the abandoned building across the street. That's when Eric found me. He was kind, I was stupid. He offered me shelter, a job, food, and the ability to lead my own life. I took him up on his offer. Within another week, I was branded with the Dauntless tattoo and given the name Raven.

"After that, I met Christina when she joined shortly after me. We got a place together with fake ID's Erik made for us – our landlord still thinks we're two years older than we actually are." I laugh weakly. Tobias doesn't move. "I was able to separate myself enough from Raven and the things she did to keep from going crazy. I gained regular customers, some who treated me like a human being, and some who didn't. People like Edward, and Thompson."

"Thompson?"

"As in Professor Connor Thompson on campus."

Tobias sucks in a breath. "That day you missed class."

My heart twists painfully. The taste of pennies returns to my mouth. I swallow thickly to prevent any bile from coming up. "Yes. Thompson recognized me from Dauntless, he called me Raven, and came onto me." I squeeze my eyes shut. "I knew what his intentions were. I should have just left, but I froze. He asked me if I was scared of him, that'd he'd offer to help make me scared of him if it would help. He said how he's tried to be reasonable, and give me my space, giving me time to make my decision to come to him on my own." My arms begin to shake. "Said that I changed my figure for him. But I had no say in that! He admitted to following me around on my own time; he was in the restaurant with me, Christina, Uriah and Will that night; that he's seen me in other locations by coincidence. Called me a tease. I called him delusional, among other things. I should have just ignored him and left. But part of me wanted to provoke him just a little. I didn't want him to think he could just walk all over me. That's when he got angry." My voice cracks and my muscles begin to twitch. My breathing coming in just a little shorter. "He, uh, threw me into the wall, against the door, on the ground. Then he, hit me, and touched me… Pinned me… Kissed me…

"I got away, soon after that. Getting a few jabs of my own in first. But I couldn't go to class." A few tears sneak down the side of my face.

"You were in shock." His voice cracks, and grounds me in the present. My shaking subsides.

I nod. "I locked myself in one of the bathrooms and couldn't move. Then I remembered I still had to turn in that stupid paper." I look up at Tobias for the first time since I got to Thompson's part in my story. "I was praying you weren't there. I didn't want you to see me like that. Of course you were there though, and then you followed me and I screamed at you, but I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it. And then you were gone. Life went on as best as it could. I recovered, sort of. Never really talking to anyone about what happened. I thought I could just snuff it out and that would be the end of it. Unfortunately, as you saw tonight, it has a way of resurfacing.

"Then to top it all off, Eric and Max are thinking of transferring me to Erudite after the 1st of the year. Eric and Jeanine – another club manager – are doing some weird bodily testing on me that Max doesn't know about. And now you're in the picture. I didn't want to get close to you because I was worried… about a lot of things. So many things could have gone wrong. If a dancer acts up or disobeys the rules, they get transferred, more likely than not, to the Gutter – another club. No one really knows its exact location, just that it's the last place you want to be. And if you don't go to the Gutter or another club, you disappear."

"Disappear?"

"Some bodies have surfaced. Some haven't."

"Oh."

"In my last four years at Dauntless, these last couple months have been the most intense. It feels like its building up to something. Eric has been gone for days on end, and no one from Erudite has contacted me about the results from whatever medication or serum they put me on. I have no idea what other effects I will have in the future or what they'll want to put me on next, but every morning for last month I've been waking up scared. Except when it comes to you. You started off as the one thing that didn't make any sense in my life, and now you're the only thing that does."

"Tris."

"I'm scared Tobias. That's why I have to leave. That's why we have to leave."

He nods, never once taking his eyes off me. "So what's the plan?"

I wipe fallen tears from my cheeks. "On New Year's Eve every year Dauntless holds an auction. Sometimes our group is joined by the other group of Dauntless dancers – group B – Candor dancers, and Erudite dancers. Throughout the first few hours of the night, bidding will take place. I don't know the exact method, but it involves showing Eric a bank slip proving you have the money you're bidding. Then when 11PM comes around, the madness starts. The first girl will be announced, and she'll take the stage. They start with the girl who received the lowest bids and work their way up to the highest bid girl. Eric will read out the top 3 bidders, and then they'll have to compete for her. Choosing either to bid more than they wrote down, or keeping the amount they bid. No one knows at the time, who bid the most. Just that they bid more than everyone else. After 30 seconds, the time to change your bid is over, and Eric announces who has won the girl. By winning the girl, they have earned the right to do whatever they want to her for the next six hours. Eric draws the line at sex because he doesn't want the girls to get pregnant, but anything else is up for grabs. Literally.

"After we've been bought, we all countdown to midnight and the rest is up to the winners. But this year, we're trying to get people we trust to help buy us out. Meaning that you buy us at the auction and while everyone is distracted, we sneak out and quickly make our way out of the state. It's the one time when Eric and Max's guard will be down."

Tobias fidgets. "Do they know you're here, now?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe. We think they've bugged our homes. Maybe even the Pit. Which would be bad in itself because that's where we first discussed the plan to leave. Although I remember Matthew doing a walk through that day to see if there was anything out of place. Anyway, what I'm asking of you is—"

"Yes."

"I didn't say what I was asking."

"You didn't have to. You want to know if I can," he swallows hard. "Buy, you on New Year's Eve to help you get away. My answer is yes."

I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, his arms instantly wrap around my waist and he pulls me impossibly close to him. Even if my legs are tangled in the blanket, I'm practically sitting in his lap. I've sat in many men's laps before, always for money; never because I wanted to be there. And now that I'm here, I can't ignore the cliché electricity coursing through my veins. The heat from his body pressing against mine and the smell of his skin under my nose is intoxicating. That small lick of cinnamon is enough to send my heart soaring.

He inhales deeply, making me wonder what I smell like to him. His heart beats furiously under me.

"I'm happy to help you Tris. Always know that."

"Thank you." I sigh, loosening my grip just a bit. "Sometimes I wish I were strong enough to get away on my own. But I know I could never leave the others."

"That's not being weak Tris. That's being selfless."

"I wasn't strong enough tonight."

"You're one of the strongest people I know. But everyone is stronger when they have someone beside them. Supporting them."

"Then I want you to promise me something, now I have a wish I want you to follow."

He smiles. "Okay."

I lean back from his embrace in order to look him in the eye. "I wish, that you would stop thinking so little of yourself, allowing your past to define you, and see yourself how I see you. Strong, smart, brave. Oh Tobias, you're so brave. I hate hearing the tone in your voice when you talk about yourself so low. It's maddening because you're incredible. You're so far above me, sometimes I wonder how you could still want to be around me – knowing what I am and what I do."

He laughs lightly, hot hair hitting my neck. "Tris, if anything, you're above me. You're selfless, you're brave, and you're smart. Not just with those around you, but you recognize your own boundaries and faults, and you fix them. On top of that, you're independent, respected by your peers, able to handle yourself, beautiful."

My whole body twitches, and color blots my cheeks.

"You're everything I wish I could be. And more. So, I promise to think of myself as you see me, but only if you promise to see yourself as I see you."

I lean in slowly, closer when we're already physically connected. His eyes look down at my lips, and my breath hikes. "Tobias."

His nose brushes mine and his breath hits my lips. His hands fanned across my back, holding me tightly too him. I wish I never had to be separated from him. From this.

And suddenly, his lips touch mine. A whimper escapes my throat as a need I didn't really know I had is quenched. Lips so soft and fuller than they look, moving gently against mine. One of his hands reaches up and cups the back of my head, as my own hands squeeze around his neck, pulling my torso closer to his own.

My lips press against his firmly, afraid he'll disappear. But Tobias pulls back, breathing heavily. "We probably shouldn't go too fast," his voice impossibly deep. It sends my spine quivering and my toes curl. I bite my lip, still looking at his, and nod reluctantly.

We lie down beside one another, my back to his front. My head over his arm, and his other hand spread across my belly.

"Hey Tobias?"

"Yes Tris?"

I lean back into him even more, and close my eyes. "Merry Christmas."

_It's him. Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames._

****IT HAPPENED! I dunno about you all, but I am thirsty for fourtris ;)**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Little cameo notion for our Divergent film director **

**ALSO: The very last line in this chapter does belong to Veronica Roth as it is a line in the series!**

**That's all for now peeps. Peace out!****


	31. Chapter 31

****Some M related language/vocabulary and nudity (may or may not be what you're thinking ; D ) in this chapter, so there has been a component M chapter created. Don't worry kids, I'll let you know when there is smut ahead. This is the more muted version. Keep in mind though, a T rating means suitable for ages 13 and up, so there will be some naughty talk and descriptions. With the whole nudity thing, I'm going based off of American view points on nudity just to be safe. Nudity in my personal opinion shouldn't really be censored because it's just the human body, it's natural. But because this site is not run by me, nor will every one reading agree, I'm opting to put the nudity in the M rated sections. Not a huge difference in chapters this time, mostly just wording.**

**Based on my current outline, there is a predicted number of 45 chapters total. Meaning we're over halfway there! But that also means we only have 14 chapters left…. A lot can happen, and boy oh boy do I have plans *evil grin***

**Important to point out that "Ancestry .com" does not exist in this universe haha**

**Notice the time jump by a few days.**

**Enjoy!****

**Tris POV – Sunday, December 28****th**

My acceptance letter came in the mail yesterday. Sort of a late Christmas present I suppose. Lynn's came in the day before mine. We both let out a small sigh of relief. Knowing that we can have some sort of future set up in a different state, outside of Max's reach manages to bring some comfort in our thorny lives. Tori found us a home too. A halfway house of sorts, somewhere to set up, calm down and make more plans.

Washington State. It sounds so far away, foreign. Christina mentioned that she'd been there before, Seattle the coast. It rains a lot. It's cold.

What's even better is that both Max and Eric have warrants out for their arrest in Washington, Oregon and Idaho. Hopefully going there doesn't put a target on our backs, but I know of at least a couple other states where they're wanted. If they come looking for us, maybe they'll even start out by looking at international options.

Everyone is ready to leave. Even the guys. Both Zeke and Tobias have put in their notices with their respective work places – Tobias at the University, Zeke at some garage. But there's no need for Matt, Uriah or Will to file notice, as they're running from Max and Eric too. Tori seems to have everything worked out with someone. And then there's Myra. We're all a bit worried about her. She says she has someone to buy her at the auction, but her voice shakes every time like she's not sure. I want to help her out, but Christina holds me back, saying right now, I need to think of myself more than others. I'm not convinced what she says is true.

Tobias and I discussed more details on Christmas day after an embarrassing morning.

I woke up, still completely wrapped in Tobias's arms, the heat of his blanket, the smell of his skin… and in that fog, I was somehow convinced I was still dreaming and decided to lean over and kiss him. His lips were slightly parted in sleep, but as soon as our lips clashed, he was wide awake. I had leaned my whole body over him, trapping his head between my hands, body pressed almost completely against his. Dream-me wasn't afraid to put some effort into it.

As soon tongue got involved, I pulled back realizing I wasn't actually asleep, this wasn't a dream and Tobias was kissing me. Unfortunately I pulled back so much that I knocked myself off the side of the bed and landed with a thud on the carpeted floor.

Tobias got off the bed to look over me, but the pain from the blush in my cheeks was worse than my back.

"I'm sorry," I said. Nervously looking anywhere but his face. Though I could see out of my peripheral vision that Tobias was smiling. He even offered me his hand to help me back up. Once I was standing in front of him, he forced me to look him in the eye before he told me that it's okay if I want to kiss him, he's not my teacher anymore. He was talking to me like a child, and hiding more laughter behind his voice. I smacked his arm, and the barrier broke. He lifted me back in bed, still laughing and told me to wait while he got some more pain meds. I protested, but he said I should take them for _his_ sanity. I did.

Later that morning Tobias even made me a breakfast of scrambled eggs, though I had to eat them from a can as he claimed all his bowls were dirty. We put in a movie that neither of us paid any attention to. I taught him how to play Rummy and Egyptian War. He taught me a bit about Poker. Around 2PM Tobias ordered a delivery pizza, and I took the moment to snoop around a bit, finding an old box of childhood possessions of Tobias' under his bed. There weren't many – half of a Candyland game set; some bent UNO cards; and a strange looking blue crystalized sculpture of what looked like the reminiscent spray of water hitting a rocky beach.

"My mother gave that to me." He said solemnly as he walked back into the bedroom.

"What was she like?" I asked, suddenly holding the sculpture closer to my body.

He visibly stiffened but tried to fight it. "Kind, for the most part. She never raised a hand to me, even if I deserved it." He moved closer to me, reaching out to touch the sculpture before his eyes turned dark. "Though clearly she was deceptive and deceitful. If she really wanted me safe, she would have taken me with her when she decided to disappear."

Tobias, still bare chested from the night before, had suddenly looked around the room as though ashamed or self-conscious. I reached out and put my hand over his heart. It stopped his fidgeting. "I'm sorry."

He smiled lightly. "You have nothing to apologize for, Tris." His hand gripped my chin, and his mouth descended to mine. A slow warmth built up through my toes, into my belly, and swirled up to my head. I felt like I was brimming, about ready to spill over. Yet when he had started to pull away, I pulled him back. My arms were around his neck, his arms around my waist – pulling on my hips as his fingertips dug into my skin ever so gently. It was the most sensual thing I'd ever felt. I sighed into his mouth when his tongue touched mine, and my eyes clamped shut; not because I was frightened, but because I was overcome with an emotion I'd never truly felt before now… Lust. I wanted Tobias. I wanted him so bad that a whimper of disapproval seeped from my lips when I realized that we couldn't be together like that. Not in that moment anyway. But Tobias took my noise as a good sign and to my relief pressed himself into me even more. His hands traveled ever so slightly up the shirt that was covering my body. Feeling the rough tips of his fingers moving up the bare skin of my back, I arched into him even more, this time earning a noise from him. It was primal, sweaty, and by far the longest I'd ever kissed someone. I just couldn't stop. I wanted to look at him, but my eyelids were so heavy, yet my body was so alive. Tobias was a thirst I couldn't stop drinking. No, Tobias was a drug. A lifeline.

When the doorbell rang, Tobias released a growl of some sort that sent electricity down my spine. He pulled away from me gently at first, seemed to fidget a bit as color rounded his cheeks, and then moved to the front door. The pizza had arrived. He shut the door, set the pizza on the counter and then went straight to the bathroom.

It only took me a couple of moments to realize what for. I'd felt him pressing into my stomach. The longer we had stood there kissing, the more I had felt him. It just didn't register until now. How had I not even considered pulling away when I first felt him, stirring? Suddenly while walking into the living room, I realized the inside of my underwear was a little damp. I cursed myself internally. I had no other pair to change into. Instead, I slid on my jeans from last night, now dry and willed myself not to think about it.

When he returned, neither of us mentioned the kiss – or how it physically affected us. Instead we ate pizza and talked more about our lives. Tobias wanted to be a programmer when he was young. Now he thinks of computers as more of a hobby he's good at, and is more set on being an English teacher. I laughed thinking at all the terrified faces of kids he'd teach in the future. I admitted to him that I hadn't really allowed myself to think much about 'what I want to be when I grow up', because ever since joining Dauntless, that choice had been taken from me. He told me to humor him, so I did. My answer even surprised me. I'd want to be a travel writer. To go to different places, meet different people, and be able to tell their stories or fight for them to be told, made me feel honorable inside. It would be the right thing to do.

A couple hours later, the power went out. One of Tobias' upstairs neighbors blew a fuse trying to use a toaster and a hair straightener in the same outlet.

Tobias and I got dressed in some warmer clothes. Then he offered me one of his heavier coats, some gloves and a hat; he practically forced it on me. I asked what he was doing, but instead of answering me once I was completely dressed, he picked me up and walked with me outside to the patch of grass across the street from his apartment and tossed me in a snow bank. I was tempted to scream at him, but instead I settled for launching a snowball at his head. It made me feel better when I heard the satisfying smack of the snow against his skin. Then Tobias declared war. I ended up with snow in every nook and cranny of my clothes as only the jacket Tobias lent me was waterproof. The jacket in question was three times too big in the chest, came about four inches past my hands in the arms, and the hem of the jacket hung at my knees. Tobias was huge.

I did take pride in the fact that I managed to sneak through a couple of the trees while Tobias was distracted making more snowballs and dump some snow down his back before running back to my base. Tobias howled at the cold and danced around a bit making my side bust from laughter. He then proceeded to chase me down and tackle me to the ground. I found myself squealing and laughing and smiling harder than I had in a long time. Harder than going down the zip line just over a week ago. Tobias laid on top of me for a moment, grinning down at me, his cheeks and nose red; I was sure mine were too. Then he kissed me again. And suddenly I wasn't cold anymore. The dampness in my underwear returned, and Tobias' body was practically shaking holding himself up. It only took one catcall from a passing car to separate us. Tobias was clearly embarrassed, but I just found myself laughing again. We stayed outside staring up at the falling snow for what felt like hours. The sky had begun to darken a bit, and the warmth had left my body.

Once I was good and shivering, Tobias and I walked back inside where the power had been restored, but his apartment had lost some of its heat. He offered me the shower first and asked what I wanted for dinner. I suggested lasagna, but Tobias just hung his head. He'd never made it before. I told him I would show him how after I showered.

My hair was still wet after I'd redressed in some of Tobias's sweatpants – rolled five times at the waist – and another one of his shirts. Tobias looked at me for a moment, and I'd worried I'd done something wrong, but his look changed. His eyes had darkened. And before he left the room in a hurry, he admitted he liked me wearing his clothes. I blushed as the bathroom door closed and the shower turned on again. But I was able to distract myself by raiding Tobias's pantry and fridge for things I'd need to make lasagna.

Teaching Tobias to cook was interesting to say the least. First he ended up with tomato paste in his hair, cried at chopping the onions, and accidentally snorting some garlic powder.

Once the lasagna was in the oven successfully, I wiped the remaining tears off my face from laughing so hard and Tobias went to go wash his hair again.

For dinner, Tobias managed to find some old sparkling cider in his apartment as he rarely has alcohol here. The cider was too old and tasted horrible, so we settled for water. The lasagna was good – I'd tried to recreate my mom's recipe, but I could never get it just right. Tobias on the other hand, thought it was a God-sent. Watching him eat across the table from me, for the briefest of moments, I imagined the adjacent sides of the table with smaller versions of Tobias, playing with their food, and getting sauce in _their_ hair. The thought made my stomach turn with longing and confusion. I'd only known Tobias a couple of months. I've only _really _known him a couple of days. Did I really want that kind of future with him?

I think so.

We went to bed that night with fully bellies, the electric blanket on, and smiles on our faces.

I didn't look at my phone until the following morning. I had multiple "Merry Christmas" messages from the Dauntless group, Matt, and even a message from Robert and Susan. Then, there was Christina. She had all but shut down my phone with messages.

_**Where are you?**_

_**Are you okay?**_

_**Are you with Four?**_

_**What are you doing?**_

_**Hello?**_

_**Tris?!**_

_**When are you coming home?**_

_**Are you at least keeping your New Year's promise?**_

I cringed at the last one. Tobias asked what my New Year's promise is and my face became a tomato. I didn't tell him. Though now I'm wondering if I should have – mostly because I'd want to see what his reaction would be. Then again, he might take it badly, that I'm just using him.

Tobias laughed at my reaction to the text and seemed mostly alright with my not saying that my New Year's promise is that I'll finally lose my virginity before the clock strikes 12. It'll be like an R rated Cinderella story of sorts. Maybe it'll be best if he never finds out. Especially if it really does happen.

My cheeks colored at the thought – Tobias above me, or below me, naked, growling like he did earlier, his tongue battling with my own, hands on my body, hovering above me, mouth on my skin, tugging my hair, my nails on his back as I feel a scream build in my chest and oh… The shower turned off at that very moment, and I was a despicable display of flushed skin, heavy breathing and wet panties once more. If Tobias saw me at that moment, I don't know what would have happened.

I left not long after, Christina came to pick me up after I finally responded to her and told her where I was. I reluctantly said goodbye to Tobias, and he to me. He even kissed me in front of Christina. I could feel her giggling and bouncing in her seat when I got into the car.

We drove off to do some after Christmas sales shopping as Christina hounded me for information. The biggest question being, _**DID WE DO IT?!**_

When I told her no she deflated like a balloon. Then blew up at me. And made snide comments about my missed opportunity for the rest of the day, all because I spent the night with a boy – my crush, no less – and still failed to "sex it up". I didn't fight against her comments. This time, I just laughed at her. She stared at me as though I'd thrown a brick at her.

The stores were busy as expected. The first thing I went and bought was a cinnamon scented candle. It's not the same as smelling Tobias in person, but close enough. And when Christina passed by Victoria Secret, she dragged me in. She went off looking for both: things for her to wear for Will, and more costume related outfits as new wardrobe ideas for Dauntless. I almost stopped her, saying we won't be there much longer, but she beat me to it. Her head hung just slightly, as she said, "Just in case."

Of all the girls, I had no idea Christina was having doubts.

Later that night at the Pit, we had a lewd-gag white elephant gift exchange after closing. Resulting in Matt receiving a light up pink teddy three times his size; Marlene a glow in the dark vibrator; Shauna a pair of spank-me SpongeBob boxer briefs; Lynn some chocolate flavored lubricant; Christina an X-rated Indiana Jones inspired leather whip; Myra a box of cherry flavored condoms, to which Marlene demanded a trade since she _is_ Cherry at Dauntless.

I clearly received Matt's contribution to the gift exchange as he was burning bright red when I picked up the package – though I didn't quite understand why, after all, he used to be a dancer too. Inside was a pair of snowflake covered fuzzy socks, a pack of gum, some Hershey's Kisses, and a pair of silver hoop earrings. Matt then became the brunt of everyone's jokes for the rest of the night as we soon learned that the gift I picked was meant for a girl who lives near him. And best of all, he must have given her the gift he meant to bring by mistake: edible underwear. This made everyone laugh even harder. It also made us question who this girl was. A half-drunk Marlene and Christina began hounding him with questions for information. All we got from him was:

Blonde hair.

Gold/Amber eyes.

She's come in here before.

Then he proceeded to beg us not to look into anything because nothing is going to happen. We're leaving so why would anything happen, right? I felt bad, but he's right. Whoever she is, she is not a part of our ordeal and shouldn't be dragged into anything.

Matt continued to talk about her though: how they've only known each other a couple of weeks – meeting outside of the Pit or Dauntless thankfully – and he thinks she might still be into someone else as he's seen her with a guy once. Matt looked straight at me when he said this, narrowing his eyes slightly. But Matt's voice is soft and velvety when he talks about her. There's no way in Hell Matt is insinuating that _I'm_ the girl. He wouldn't have looked at me like he did. But why did he give me that look?

The girls have continued to pry for information from Matt into yesterday and will probably pick up again on Monday, tomorrow. Even Lynn seems to be having some fun with it, since he's _supposed_ to be into Lynn for Dauntless appearances.

Now it's Sunday, my day off. I was supposed to be meeting up with Tobias to get lunch downtown, but he had to cancel and didn't say why. I invited Christina and Will to meet up with me since I was already in the heart of downtown Chicago but they were spending a lazy day in bed. Christina made sure to coo about what I was missing over the phone. I hung up on her.

So I decided to walk down to the public library. Mom and dad would take Caleb and I here every other weekend during summer and once a month during school to put our library cards to use. Caleb would always check out the books on history and sciences, never any fiction or make believe stories. I on the other hand, was drawn to the hero stories in far of lands. And when I hit my early teenage years and there was a sudden boom of heroine stories, I was in and out of the library every week. All of the endings were good endings for the heroine. And two years into reading them, I began to get pissed off that there wasn't at least one heroine who died for the cause.

This time however, I'm greeted with a large sign in the front of the building. _LEARN YOUR ANCESTRY! FREE TODAY – ELIGIBLE LIBRARY CARD HOLDERS ONLY_. I entered the small room it was advertised in and found the walls to be stacked full of records of Chicago citizens and beyond. No computers naturally.

"Can I help you get started?" A woman with bouncy dark red hair asks me.

"Sure. Umm, how do I start?"

She smiles. "May I see your library card?" I pass her the card, suddenly wondering if it's still any good. She frowns. Great. "Well Miss Prior, it's an expired card so I won't be able to let you check anything out, but we can at least look. Let's see, last name beginning with P's is over here." I follow her to a table close to the center of the room. "We look up the person's name and work our way backwards, opening up different books to find information on different people to create an accurate timeline. Each book is sorted by last name and birth year, so if you have any siblings you won't' be in the same book unless you're twins. And we only have information listed for births and deaths within the state, so if any family members were born outside of Illinois, they won't be in our records."

I smile a little at her enthusiasm. "Okay."

"Alright now, Prior, and… what year were you born?"

"1994," I say following her deeper into the room.

She smiles warmly. "Simple enough. That'll be book P994. P for Prior, and 994 for the year 1994." She grabs a book from the back after locating it and brings it back to the table. "Ah! There you are," she says pointing to the middle of one of the pages.

Beatrice Grace Prior, B. May 14th

She points to my name with a chipped robin's egg blue painted finger, then across the page from my name, to the names of my mom and dad identifying me as their child.

Andrew James Prior and Natalie Lila Prior nee Wright

A small cross is printed next to their names. A small sign that the ones who carried this name are now dead. I can see the woman helping me pause uncomfortably at that, so I wave her off. "It's been a while," I say.

She bites her lip. "Still. I'm sorry."

I nod.

"Okay, well let's go find your mom and dad's records." She writes down their last names, and years of birth, then leaves to go search them out. I browse the list of names before and after my own, noting that there are quite a few Priors in Illinois. I didn't think it was that popular of a name. Maybe some of these names represent distant family members I never knew I had. Many of the names have parent names with a cross next to one of the names. Some a cross next to their own name. Some even have an "M" date and name next to their own.

"Married date, and spouse respectively." The woman comes back with two books in her hands, as she sees my finger pointing to one of them.

"It's still a little hard to fathom that some people my age are getting married," I admit. "I'm not even 21."

She smiles warmly. "Whatever makes someone happy. That's what I say. Right then, here is book P965 and W965 for your parents' names and birth years."

I look through mom's first, W965 for Wright, born 1965. But a cold chill covers me when we come to the long list of Wright's, and of the 17 Natalie's listed in the state, my mom is not among them. "She's not here."

"Well that's odd. Was your mom born outside of the state?"

"I… I don't know. I always knew Chicago, but, maybe?" It suddenly shames me that I really don't remember if I ever asked my mom where she was born, or about her family. She had no one when she married my dad. At least, that's what she always said. I just assumed she was from here.

"Hmm. Well these are only Illinois records so perhaps it's possible. When all of this is online, you'll be able to search farther outside of the state."

"Why isn't all this stuff on the computer already?"

She frowns a bit. "It's supposed to be. But it's a project no one really wanted to take on until now. I'm just starting to get other states involved. Specifically the surrounding states. Illinois births and deaths will be ready to be viewed on the computer at the beginning of the new year. Don't tell anyone though, it's supposed to be a secret."

"You took on the project by yourself?" I ask her surprised.

She shrugs. "I think it's important for people to have access of knowing where they came from. We have all these records that normally aren't free for viewing, so why not?"

We move on to my dad's book, and there's a churning in my stomach of worry that he won't be in here either. But he is. Right where he should be.

Andrew James Prior, B. January 30th (M. Natalie Wright 1990)

Caleb Hansen Prior and Beatrice Wendy Prior nee Aldridge

Crosses are listed next to all their names. "So, was one of your arguments for getting funding for this project, is that it saves money to update these records electronically rather than print a new copy every year?"

Her smile widens. "Only took the board five years to agree with me. They were worried about not preserving the tradition."

"Idiots." She laughs.

"Now comes the hard part, because we don't list dates of birth next to the person's parents, we have no idea what book they're in, so we have to look up their marriage license. This, thankfully, is on the computer."

She has me follow her over to a desktop area and types in the names of my paternal grandparents. Both of whom died before I was five. Suddenly their marriage license is there, along with some photos of them when they were young.

"Oh God," I say.

"What?" The woman looks at me, worried it's not them.

I shake my head. "My dad looks exactly like my grandma."

She laughs once more, before printing out a copy. Thankfully, their dates of birth are filled in. As it turns out, my grandma had no family just like my mom. My grandpa on the other hand did in the book of 1941 births.

Caleb Hansen Prior, B. September 1st (M. Beatrice Wendy Prior nee Aldridge 1963)

Daniel Hansen Prior and Edith Margot Prior nee Ritter

She goes back to the computer with the names of my dad's grandparents, and comes back with two more books: one for births in 1917, and one for births in 1904. Quite the age gap my great grandparents had. Then again, it probably wasn't too uncommon.

Edith Elizabeth Prior nee Ritter, B. June 12th (M. Daniel Hansen Prior 1939)

Thomas Philip Ritter and Amanda Opal Ritter nee Callahan

Unfortunately when we turn to my dad's grandfather's page, it has no parents listed.

"Remember, these are only Illinois records. So your great grandfather may have been born elsewhere."

"But maybe Edith Prior has more family branches?"

She smiles. "We can certainly check."

She goes back to the computer and ends up finding that apart from my grandpa Caleb, Edith had another son, younger than my grandpa named Darrel. And Edith herself, was one of three children. She had two younger brothers, Joseph Ritter and Thomas Ritter Jr. All three within four years. Joseph Ritter's timeline is incomplete after showing his marriage to a woman named Ramona VanDerTen. Tomas Jr's records are nowhere to be found.

We're about to look for Edith Ritter's parents Thomas and Amanda Ritter's books when my name is called from the entry way. "Beatrice?"

I look up, knowing that voice but wishing he wasn't here. "Caleb?"

"What are you doing?"

Suddenly I don't want him to know about our past. I don't want him to know about how mom has no family recorded, nor does she really exist in their records. I don't want him to know about Amanda Ritter, or Edith Prior.

I close the books. "Nothing." I turn to the red head. "Thank you so much for your help. It's been fun."

She looks between Caleb and I, the name registering on her lips and suddenly she seems to pick up on the nature of our relationship. "Sure. Feel free to come back anytime. My name is Therese Cross if you ever want to do some digging again. It was nice to meet you." She walks away to a new person entering the room as someone else clears the books of my history off the table. I want to tell them to stop, but then Caleb would uncover what I did. He never took an interest in family stuff. Why should he get to start now?

"Caleb," I turn to him as he stares at me with an odd expression on his face. One that makes his nose look too big between his eyes. "What are you checking out?" I nod to the books in his hands.

"Oh, just some light reading material on genetic welfare and testing."

"_Light_ reading?"

He grins and for a moment it relaxes me. He looks like a teenager again. Before puberty hit him like a truck that is. "It's for my new job."

My heart starts beating a little faster. "New job? You're not going back to New York?"

He shakes his head, still grinning. "The day we went for coffee downtown, I met a woman after you stormed out. She runs a highly experimental and exciting company, Matthews Consolidated that is working with genetics, human capabilities, and pushing the boundaries to new places. Soon, someone might be able to dye their eye color just as easily as they can dye their hair. Come on," he puts his arm around me and walks towards the front of the building continuing to talk about his new boss. My stomach drops a little more with every word, and the child-like tone in his voice makes my knees wobble. His new boss, _Jeanine Matthews_ of Matthews Consolidated hired him near on the spot, almost as soon as he told her his full name.

"I didn't even have to hand her my resume! Thankfully I had it on hand and gave it to her anyway. Beatrice, you'd be amazed at how smart the woman is. Rumor is that she has an IQ of 200. She's absolutely incredible. Actually, I'm on my way there now to finish setting up my new office, would you like to join me?"

We walk out of the library together and I feel sick for two reasons. One, because my brother is now involved in the faction system whether he wants to be or not. And Jeanine probably hired him because she knew of me. Two, the last time I saw my brother – which was over two weeks ago now – I told him I was done with him and didn't care to see him anymore, and now he's acting as though that never happened. He's acting as though none of our fights ever happened, and he's treating me the way I always wanted him to. Like an older brother should treat his younger sister. To include her, tell her things, and offer to spend time with her. How am I supposed to say no?

"Okay," my mouth feels dry.

Caleb beams and leads me down the street a couple of blocks. It's surprisingly warm out today, but many people think it's the calm before another blizzard hits us for the New Year. I pray that's not the case. If it is, flights will be grounded. We'll have less of a chance at a quick getaway and more likely to be caught.

We enter the lobby of a tall blue glass building with a brightly lit interior – white flooring and furniture with blue accents to compliment the cool and collected feel everyone was permeating. A large white and glass desk stood proudly in front of the elevators and first floor offices filled with security. Three security members alone sat at the desk. An electronic billboard was mounted on the wall behind them; detailing each business and the various floors they took up in the building. Matthews Consolidated took up the top floors 49 to 71. Other businesses took up maybe three floors at most throughout the building.

"Caleb, how many floors are in this building?" I ask as Caleb shows his new ID badge to one of the guards and signs in, before motioning for me to sign in as well.

"71 at the moment. The top 4 floors are under construction right now. Though I hear Jeanine is going to buy them out for more expansion once more progress is made to the floors. Oh and Beatrice,"

"Yes?"

He looks a little sympathetic. "You'll have to leave your phone here. For security reasons. We don't want anything upstairs being leaked to the public just yet."

I fish my phone from my pocket, and slide it into an open envelope the guard holds out to me. "Okay. You make it sound like it could be dangerous for the public to know what you're working on." I eye my brother carefully.

Caleb waves me off. "No, nothing like that. But we can't risk this information getting to our competitors." He leads me over to the express elevator that takes us up to floor 25, then another express that takes us to floor 50. There's a third express elevator in front of me when we step onto the 50th floor but it has caution tape all over it. Before I can see much of floor 50, Caleb leads me to another elevator that stops anywhere between 50 and 60. After floor 60 we get onto another elevator that goes anywhere between floor 60 and 70. "This is the worst part of the job, so many different transports to board," Caleb jokes. Rather than go straight to 70, Caleb pushes the 64 button. I notice very quickly that the buttons for floors 65-69 are darkened and sunk in to show they're not in use.

We step off at the 64th floor and I'm immediately met with the same blinding white atmosphere. Everything so clean and pristine. Caleb leads me down the main hallway and my jaw goes a little slack. I can't speak for the right side of the building, but the left side of the elevator is buzzing with people. There are fogged glass dividers separating cubicles, and a large blue and sea glass looking staircase going up to the four out of use floors.

Caleb smiles at my reaction. "Come on, this way." He walks towards the stairs and goes up one floor to the 65th floor before turning off. This floor has more offices, and Caleb's is one of the first ones. His office doesn't have any windows overlooking the city directly, but one of the walls in his office is complete glass and that does face the outside windows by the staircase we just used. His name is already printed on the door.

"Why are there so many people here on a Sunday?" I ask as Caleb sets his books down. His office isn't completely unpacked yet, but its close enough. He even has a picture of mom and dad on his file cabinet. It makes me squirm, seeing them so young again.

"Jeanine is funny that way. All she asks is that you come to the office 40 hours a week, it doesn't matter when. And if you can't make it to the office, you do field work in one of her other buildings."

"How many buildings does she have?"

Caleb thinks for a moment. "Six I think? But there's plans for more. They're all over the city. This is just the main headquarters. A couple of them are just on-site laboratories too."

"Where does she get the funding for this?" He doesn't answer. Maybe he didn't hear me. My stomach is in knots, and my palms are sweaty. I feel as though I'm walking across the beast's tongue, just waiting for it to snap its jaws down on my forever.

"Oh good, Caleb you're here. I wondered if you had the—"

I turn at the person in the doorway and am completely shocked. Lily stands before me in a simple blue dress which complements her light cocoa flavored skin tone wonderfully, her dark hair curled. She stares at me with wide blue eyes, as though she'd seen a ghost. Maybe it's just her form of panic.

"Lily, you alright?" Caleb asks, not noticing the exchange between the two of us.

She recovers quickly, and I'm impressed. Christina was right, she is a lot like me. "Jeanine was wondering if you had the initial report finished on experiment 51. I tried your phone but there was no answer, and I remember you saying you were going to stop by today."

Caleb nods. "Of course." Then digs into one of his drawers and pulls out a thick white folder with black rimmed edges. "Here it is." But he pulls back as she reaches for it. "Actually, do you think she'd mind if I gave it to her myself? I wanted to ask her about subsection B if she was free."

Lily looks a little reluctant. "No, I'm sure that'd be fine. She doesn't have any meetings for the rest of the day so she should just be in her office or her private lab."

Caleb grins like a school boy. "What fun it'd be to have a private lab, eh Beatrice? Jeanine thinks I'll go far here." Then he walks by Lily out of his office and heads up the staircase.

I look back at Lily, she's sweating, but hiding it well. "Well are you going to say something or just admire the view?" She aims a smirk at me, but it doesn't reach her eyes. My expression doesn't change and even though the expression is my own, I don't really know what I look like. Do I look like I'm pitying her? What a hypocrite that'd make me. Do I look upset? I don't think so. Maybe just shocked.

My silence seems to rattle her. "Just say something!"

"Is this how you got started? Working for Jeanine?" I remember Matthew telling me how her file says Johanna wanted her at Amity because of her age, and she was there for a couple weeks but ultimately she ended up in Erudite to begin with.

Lily releases a slow breath, watching for any change in expression or movement from me, like a frightened deer on the side of the road. "Yes."

"How?"

She rears up a bit, guarding herself. "Why?"

I shrug, trying to appear as relaxed as possible. "I'm interested in people's stories."

She calms a little. "Why?"

"Everyone has something to tell."

Lily looks over her shoulder a bit and comes further into Caleb's office before shutting the door. "You're Caleb's girlfriend?"

I laugh out loud at that. "Oh no, of course not. He's my brother."

Lily's face turns red below her eyes. "Oh, sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Does he say he has a girlfriend?"

She sits down in one of the chairs opposite Caleb's desk. "Well, he talks about two girls mostly. Cara, and someone else."

Susan. "I think I have an idea. What I didn't know, was that my brother openly talks about girls. He's never done that the whole 20 years I've known him. Then again, there was one period where I thought he was gay in high school. Girls would fling themselves at him and he couldn't spare them a second glance. Now I know it was just because he was more interested in grades and studying than girls."

She smiles a little. "I have a brother too. He's younger than me, by a lot. His name is Carter."

"How old are you?"

"I'll be nineteen in the summer. You?"

"I'll be twenty-one in the spring." I smile at her, feeling motherly for the first time in a couple of weeks.

Lily smiles back at me, before growing serious once more. "I started by applying for a job at the Nook when I was sixteen. I had also applied to a couple other places, including a party shop on the outskirts of town." Amity. That must be where Johanna saw her. "Jeanine picked me up in a private car of hers as I left one of my shifts at the Nook one night. All the other girls kept going out together and I was feeling discouraged, so to see my boss drive up beside me and offer me a ride was huge. She asked me what I wanted out of life." She looks down at the floor. "All I want is a good future for Carter. I told her as such, and she offered me a place to live, a roof, food, warmth, everything Carter and I would need. I said yes before she could finish talking. She said she would require I work a little more, especially nights. But it meant I would be able to join the other girls from the Nook. Of course I took the deal. She told me I had to dance for some clients. Shouldn't be too hard, right?" Lily scoffs harshly. "I was a fucking idiot."

I lean forward. "But did it keep your brother off the streets?"

She looks up at me, anger and sadness swirling behind her eyes. "Yes."

"Then you weren't an idiot."

Lily stands and wrings her hands together, rolls her neck and faces the wall with her arms now crossed. "Jeanine removed me from the Nook after it was made known that I had no clue how to make coffee. Really, it was bad. Scorched milk all over my apron every day. So Jeanine offered me a different job, that would pay even better, but I'd have to work even harder to keep Carter safe. That's when I started to get the feeling that Jeanine was threatening us. I became one of her three personal secretaries. She pays me better than the Nook did. But then I wasn't making enough at Erudite. I wasn't keeping up the clients I should have been. So Jeanine had me transferred to Dauntless, Group B, where I've been for the last year. Only now just getting the chance to move into Group A." She actually looks hopeful.

"Where is Carter?" I ask, standing with her.

"In our apartment in another one of Jeanine's buildings. It's only a couple of blocks from here," she points at Caleb's window facing the east. "It's a building right across from where Erudite is located."

"What's Erudite like?" I ask, the pit in my stomach returning. After Eric and Max discussing possible transfers, including myself, I realize I don't know what's going to be waiting for me at Erudite should our plan fail. That is, if they don't kill me first.

"Elite, for the most part. Sensual, and slow. Many clients are really surprising – people you would recognize from newspapers or magazines. Celebrities even. There's one guy who is a regular but never pays for girls. We're just supposed to make him happy according to Jeanine. And he only ever wants blondes."

My mind reels. Someone that Jeanine orders the girls to keep happy no matter what. It has to be someone high up the chain within the faction system. Max maybe? Eric doesn't seem like a likely candidate. Then who?

"Beatrice," Caleb's voice startles both myself and Lily, but she quickly smiles at him. Faster than I could anyway. He stands half in the doorway of his office, grinning like a fool. "I'd like you to meet my boss, Jeanine Matthews." Caleb steps aside and in walks a woman in a blue pant suite. Her blonde hair falling to her shoulders and piercing eyes. I've seen her before, in Max's office. She gave Eric a look, something I didn't catch. This is Jeanine – mastermind extraordinaire. I've heard so much about her, and yet, somehow I pictured her, not looking so nice. Her cheeks are round and slightly pink, full lips, and delicately pierced ears. She radiates confidence, and for a moment I'm drawn to her. Only then to pull back sharply, as one would a snake.

"Prior, Beatrice Prior." She rolls my name on her tongue. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." She holds out her hand. I pause longer than I should before shaking it. Jeanine doesn't flinch. She stares at me, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She knows me. And she knows I know her. With grace and poise, she turns back to Caleb slowly. "You're right Caleb, she does look like your mother."

I stumble. "How do you know my mom?"

Her smile widens. "Except for the eyes. Your father had those blue eyes."

Caleb answers. "She went to the University with dad. They were great friends, and that's how she met mom!"

I wish I was back under Tobias's electric blanket and in his arms protected from the world right now, as it threatens to swallow me whole. "Oh."

"Please don't be alarmed Beatrice, I did not mean to cause any bad memories for you."

"You didn't." I bite back.

"Beatrice." Caleb scolds my tone. "I apologize for my sister's behavior Jeanine. Clearly she didn't get enough sleep last night."

He probably thinks I went out partying, again. Only because of the one time I called him drugged up. He thinks I'm throwing my life away. Fine, let him think that. Jeanine knows better. Lily knows better. I know better. And the thought that I know something he doesn't know, suddenly makes me smile. Not politely I might add.

Jeanine watches my every move, judging and examining me. She's the one to break the silence. "Not to worry Caleb. Actually, would you like to show her what we've been working on?"

Caleb's demeanor changes like night and day. "I'd be happy to."

Jeanine turns back to Lily. "You're dismissed for the day Miss Cortez." Lily nods to Jeanine and scurries out of the room without giving me a second glance. My lungs suddenly twist. All the girls we're leaving behind when we do plan our escape. They're going to be the ones to take the fall, the heat, and the punishment. They'll be questioned for information, painfully no doubt. What would happen to their siblings or dependents that they're just doing what's best for? Lily's brother Carter, what would become of him if Lily just up and disappeared?

We can't just leave. We need to do something, or leave something behind that can protect them. Some kind of clue or hint, for someone else to take their whole organization down. How could I possibly do that?!

"Please excuse me for a moment. I'll join you two shortly." Jeanine leaves us and walks down the opposite end of the hall.

Caleb leads me towards the staircase he ascended earlier to reach Jeanine's office. We go up another floor and go to the right side of the building, away from the offices. Suddenly the halls are filled with examination rooms, small laboratories. We pass one window, and in it stands a girl probably my age, completely naked with three scientists hovering around her. Patches of skin around her chest are swollen and tinted purple. Her face scrunched together painfully as they prod her. Her hip bones jut out of her body to the point of rubbing her skin too much leaving the area red and worn. The scientists have clipboards, cameras, and syringes.

"Body modifications," Caleb says proudly as he moves me to the next window. A man stands there just as the woman did previously. The muscles in his arms protruding painfully, also tinting his skin a dark purple color. His abdomen looks like stone, but not naturally, and his genitals are swollen with red and purple blotches. There are pictures of slutty women before him, and he cringes every time he looks at them. The scientists in his room seem to be encouraging him to look at the pictures. "They're trying to arouse him so they can measure the length of his penis," Caleb says with ease. It rattles me at how easy this comes to him, watching someone in pain. "This one didn't turn out as we'd hoped. Just like the woman in the previous room. The point of the experiment," he leads me towards a different viewing room. "Is to offer body modifications without the surgery. A simple injection, or even a pill. Just one sample and you're ready. Granted at the moment, it may take a couple of weeks to kick in if you just have one injection or one pill to take. So we're beginning with a set of injections or pills."

My mind flairs to the injections I had. My body modifications. They were only semi-permanent, with no side effects. Yet those two people had mass side effects.

The next window has a woman sitting in a chair with someone playing with her hair – taking bits and pieces off, including snipping the ends of her hair, and shaving off some full strands from the base. The window after that has whatever phase two must be. This woman sits with a completely shaved head with some kind of blue gel covering her head. "The goal here is to naturally grow specific colored hair. This one is still in it's early stages and not yet tested on the public."

"You do trial runs on regular people, willingly?"

"Absolutely! Many are actually homeless to begin with. We offer a good sum of money for their consent and participation. And if they recruit more people for us, Jeanine rewards them kindly. Ah, now here is another similar project," he shows me the next window. A man with a bald spot has a scientist spread some clear solution onto the space with no hair. "This one is further along in testing."

"Re-growing hair?" I ask.

Caleb nods enthusiastically.

He continues to show me the floor, including experiments on changing one's eye color, teeth whitening, and getting universal vaccines that will protect you from all known viruses and all their various strands. The last set of experiments he shows me, is meant to enhance one's mind.

"Here, try this one." Caleb leads me into an empty lab room. "This one has been tested for years and is completely rid of side effects."

I look at him skeptically.

He sighs. "I'll show you." Then he sits down in one of the chairs, takes a small syringe and injects himself with a small amount of orange liquid in the neck after clearing a small patch of skin with some rubbing alcohol. Caleb is silent for about five minutes before his eyes flutter back open. "See?"

"What does it do?"

"That's a surprise. I'll tell you after."

"Is whatever I see going to be recorded?"

"Not with this sample. You'd need trackers in the serum in order to see what's happening inside a person's mind. This is tracker-free. I swear."

Part of my mind screams at me not to do this. It could be a trap. But honestly, what would Caleb's motives be, for putting me in a trap? It's not like he cares about me _that_ much. He's made that pretty clear.

"Fine." I hold my hair to the side as Caleb rubs down my neck. The smell of rubbing alcohol stings my nose. Then there's a small pinch, Caleb says "Done." And the world before me instantly fades away. Instead, I'm standing in Tobias's bedroom. The curtains are drawn over the windows. The bed perfectly made, like a soldier's bed. All the doorways are dark.

"Tris," his voice startles me from behind. I turn sharply and there he is, naked from the waist up.

He leans down and captures my lips in his. I lean into him instantly, an automatic reaction, and wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me closer to his body, lifting me slightly off my feet so that he can carry me over to the bed. My back hits the covers, and I'm engulfed in soft luxury. His touch is soft and gentle, with those small calluses on his fingertips scrapping my skin deliciously. I feel a groan pull from my chest and Tobias hovers over me steadily. Cold air rushes over my exposed skin. I have no idea how much. His tongue touches my torso. My eyes roll to the back of my head and my hands grip at his hair. He murmurs words like "beauty, soft," and "love." I feel a small spike of fear when his fingers reach my panty line. He rubs small circles into my hips and my torso before sliding his fingers in the side to feel my bare hip.

"Tobias," I say softly, trying to get his attention. But he doesn't seem to hear me. "Tobias, wait."

"Oh Tris, I thought you wanted this." His fingers move closer, his erection digging into my thigh painfully. His touch no longer feels soft, now more like needles. "I thought you wanted me."

"Tobias please, stop!"

His eyes turn black and he laughs roughly, shoving me further into the bed. I feel I'm choking. Once he hovers over me completely, I can feel we're both naked, but I can't bring myself to look. I try to hit him but he's too strong. He's always been stronger than me, and always will be. There's no way I can escape.

Then something snaps in my mind. Tobias would never do this to me. This isn't him. This isn't real.

The feeling of drowning takes hold, and then everything is gone until I'm jolted back to standing in front of Caleb.

"That was fast." He looks at me curiously.

"What do you mean? It felt like I was… gone for twenty minutes. At least."

Then he smiles. "That's the whole point. It's a type of Dream Serum we're working on. It allows a person to live inside their dreams and recall them if they choose – that's where the trackers come in. It's meant to help people get over certain fears, or past traumatic events by reliving them until they finally conquer them. But it is also used for simply taking time to relive happy memories and happy dreams. Sometimes it completely depends on the person how it will work."

"How long was I unconscious?"

"Barely a minute. Which is extraordinarily fast compared to our other test groups. You don't suppose you'd be willing to—"

"If you ask me to be a science guinea pig Caleb I swear I will never speak to you again."

He shuts his mouth. Looking a little disappointed. "Will you at least tell me what you saw?"

"A room. With a friend. We were… talking."

He shrugs a little. "That's kind of boring. I saw mom and dad, we were at a wedding."

I snort. "You dream about going to a wedding?"

He looks a bit flustered. "I think it was their wedding. I just wanted to see them happy again."

My attitude turns dark once more. "Oh."

"Beatrice, at least let me ask you one question about while you were under."

"I may choose not to answer." We walk towards the door and continue down the hall.

He rolls his eyes. "Were you aware you were under a simulation of sorts?"

"No." I say immediately. And I hope he bought the lie. He'd ask me more questions if I said yes. "I was there, and then suddenly I wasn't."

"Interesting."

"What's interesting?" Jeanine's cool voice reaches us.

Caleb collects himself. "I was showing Beatrice the Dream Serum we created. I allowed her to sample the extras in the room. I hope that was okay."

Jeanine smiles. "Of course. And what did you think Beatrice?"

"I think it has potential." I say calmly.

Thankfully, Caleb says nothing about how quickly I was launched out of the simulation. Jeanine just watches me with narrowed eyes. "Yes. It certainly does. Come now, let's finish the tour."

Caleb nods happily and turns the corner to a different examination room. This one in particular is a shirtless young man, whose dreams appear to be displayed on the projector screen behind him. His face turned away from our observation window. Small monitors placed in various places on his temples and chest. He dreams of a young woman, with flowing auburn hair. She's pregnant, very pregnant, and sitting in a car with him watching from the outside. The man appears to be rushing towards the car, and he tenses in the chair. Suddenly a truck comes out of nowhere and slams into the car, and sends it spinning off the road into a ditch. There's blood everywhere, her eyes wrenched open and unmoving. His hands are bloody, and suddenly he screams in the dream, followed closely by the man in the chair actually screaming. The scientists don't wake him up. They don't even look bothered by the man's screaming. Now he screams a name.

"Amelia! Amelia! Oh God!"

"He's a part time employee here. Willingly undergoes this testing multiple times a month apparently. I had yet to see it in action." He's smiling.

I feel ants crawling up my limbs. "Aren't they going to help him?"

He shakes his head. "That's the whole point of this specific experiment. It's what we call Fear Serum."

I can feel my mind turn numb as Caleb explains how the injection targets a person's deepest fear and replays it over and over in front of them. How it's a new tactic Jeanine has been developing for the government as a new, more humane method of torture – physical torture anyway. This man and several others have gone under the Fear Serum in order to help correct it to its highest ability. Only an antidote can wake him up now. This will allow people to see a person's fear and use it against them to gain information, or just allow the person to sit in their own fear constantly for who knows how long to try and mentally break someone.

"Trevor was the only one who could wake up from the serum on his own when we were first beginning the project." Jeanine says from behind me. I momentarily forgot she was there. "It was incredible watching his mind at work, looking for an escape." She eyes me once more. Then Jeanine presses a button on the wall and calmly commands, "Wake him up, that's enough for now."

One of the scientists nods and adds a vial of blue liquid to this man's IV. Suddenly there is no more dream projected on the wall, and the man wakes with a small jolt. The heart monitors beeping furiously and he leans over to put his head in his hands. As another scientist hands him some water and unhooks him from the machines.

When he stands and looks over at us, I have to take a step back. It's Slade. He works here too? Did he and Lily know each other before hand? Slade, now Trevor.

He doesn't seem to notice us, and I realize the glass must be like a dark mirror on his side. But he walks out, barefoot soon after, accompanied by a scientist. It's only then that he sees me, and my little entourage. He stiffens, and his face hardens over in an instant. His cheeks redden. He's ashamed.

"You did well Trevor." Jeanine walks out from behind me. And I can't help but notice a family like resemblance. "Beatrice, Caleb, this is my nephew, Trevor Cross. He works in our Security Office downstairs."

Trevor swipes at his blonde hair and looks anywhere but my face. "We've met." I say before thinking.

Caleb looks astounded. "Where? One of those clubs you party at?!" He's angry. I don't care. Neither does Jeanine. She just continues smiling.

"I should go," I say calmly before I see anything else and completely lose my shit.

Jeanine nods. "Very well. Caleb, would you show your sister out?"

Caleb gruffs at me, but says "Of course," anyway. His hand grips my arm tightly.

When we reach the elevator I realize I need a distraction because I'm going to be sick. "Why don't you like me going out?" I ask Caleb suddenly.

Caleb launches into a whole spiel about how it's not good for my health doing drugs and alcohol and I have to giggle when he gives examples like "coke brownies" and "injecting marijuana." I can't tell if he just mixed up the drugs, or if he seriously doesn't understand how each drug works. That would be a serious sore spot of embarrassment for him as he wants to be a scientist. Even if he doesn't use the drug, he should know how it works.

The distraction of Caleb's lecturing is enough to satisfy my mind until we reach the ground floor finally. Caleb helps me sign out at the front desk, get my phone back, says a quick goodbye to me then goes back upstairs. It isn't until I get outside that I feel I can breathe again.

My phone beeps at me. Alerting me to a missed message. Tobias called me, but didn't leave a message.

I text Christina first telling her I need a ride back home. She responds within a minute saying she needs to drop Will off first but they're on their way right now.

Do I need to be warry of Slade? No, Trevor? Is he a plant watching us? Is that why Jeanine introduced him to me so formally? He doesn't know anything. At least he shouldn't.

I need another distraction. I hit Tobias's number to call him back. He picks up on the second ring.

"Tris?"

"Hey, you called?"

"Oh, yeah." His voice waivers a bit. "I'd like to use another request of mine."

Heat fills my chest, and I smile. "Well don't leave me in the dark. What is it?"

I can hear the smile in his voice now. "I'd like to formally request a date with you Tris Prior, tomorrow night on your dinner break."

"I think that will be acceptable. But I may not be able to leave the building."

"Don't worry about that. Just come as you are. What time is your break tomorrow?"

I have to think for a moment. "I'm on break from 9PM to 10PM."

"Then I will see you at nine."

"Okay." There's a small silence where neither of us says anything else, but neither of us hangs up or motions to say goodbye. I'm able to listen to his breathing, and I come to realize that the sound of Tobias is the only distraction I'll ever need. I can practically smell the cinnamon on him.

"Would you like to come over?" He asks suddenly.

The memory of the Dream Serum floats to the forefront of my mind and a small bout of fear grips me, though I know it's silly. "No, I uh… I don't…"

"Tris, is everything okay?" His voice is more on edge now.

"No, everything's fine. I just…" think! "I don't know if I trust myself around you right now." I can feel a shameful heat lick my cheeks. It's not a complete lie. If I saw Tobias now, I would be tempted.

His breathing hikes a bit, and becomes heavier. "Oh, I see."

"I'm sorry Tobias, I—"

He starts laughing. "Don't be sorry for that Tris, never be sorry for that."

I begin to smile a little. "Okay." Christina pulls up in her car, and honks at me from across the street. "Hey Tobias, I have to go, Christina just came to pick me up," I say as I cross the street.

"Pick you up? Where are you?"

"Downtown. I was at the library for a while."

"Did you see they had an ancestry room set up?"

I pause at the passenger door in Christina's car. "Yes. That's what I was doing actually."

The smile in his voice returns. "You can tell me about it tomorrow."

"Sure thing. Bye Tobias." I say his name quietly before opening the door so Christina doesn't hear his name.

There's a small hesitation in his voice right as he begins talking, but he recovers and says, "Bye Tris." Before hanging up.

I could have sworn I heard the sound of an "L" leave his lips before he caught himself.

"That had better be you scheduling a booty call with Four. Girl, the end of the year is drawing near, your time is almost up."

I roll my eyes. "And what are you going to do if nothing happens?"

"I never reveal my master plans until it's too late for the victim." She smiles evilly.

"You'd probably make a good serial killer Christina."

"Thank you very much."

****Chapter 31 done! Please review! I noticed I'm almost at 900 reviews for the story. Reviews are super motivating and mean the world to me guys! A million thanks to each one of you.****


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